Final Fantasy VIII: Bridges
by Corvus
Summary: Two years after the Ultimecia War, a mystery is unveiled, carrying dire portents for the future. Is it too late to cross the bridges once burnt? (Features Raijin and Fujin, the "Orphanage Gang" and a host of new characters.) [Serialized repost/edit]
1. Part One

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART ONE  
  
  
Cadet reviews were nominally the province of Instructors, but SeeD Commander Squall Leonhart liked to take a personal look at the progress of what he called the "best of the best", the future leaders of SeeD. So on a bright Sunday noon, instead of relaxing with his fiancée on a Balamb beach, he sat with her in his office evaluating what his staff had to say about young men and women under their tutelage.  
  
There was something to be said for the feel of a hardcopy. Squall understood now, after serving more than a year as the leader of SeeD, why Cid Kramer prefered to hold a file in his hands rather than read the same information on a terminal panel. Sentimental, perhaps, but the paper gave a kind of personal connection to the data, made the words and numbers seem to mean something more on a human level. On a more practical note, he could pass papers to Rinoa for her opinion while he looked at something else.  
  
In his hand he now held the review of a cadet named Kent Brougham. Squall's mind's eye showed him Brougham's round face, carefully-trimmed chestnut hair and bright coffee-brown eyes. Present at the time of the Garden Riot during the Ultimecia War, Brougham had been a member of one of the cadet squads rallied by Xu to confuse, harrass and delay the partisans of the usurper Norg and had displayed what Xu later called "a remarkable talent for thinking outside the box." That same talent had dazzled his Instructors in tactics, political science, history and melee, but had infuriated those same teachers when it came to math and physics. It also made Brougham see para-magical studies as tedious, and the cadet had a long history of struggling with the subject and its practical applications.  
  
Kent Brougham made up for his seeming ineptitude with magic with blisteringly-fast and deadly-accurate archery. He was one of the few SeeDs in the history of the force to give much consideration to the bow. Xu herself had brought to Squall the cadet's thesis for a combat bow and ammunition that would function in the field against modern armored troopers as well as monsters. Squall remembered his reaction, and smiled, somewhat wryly; he'd nearly dropped the plans in shock. Why hadn't anyone else thought of the things Brougham was showing him? The cadet was thinking outside the box. Squall had approved the design and personally forwarded the plans to Esthar, where the prototype and its arrows were constructed of advanced polymers. On Kent Brougham's sixteenth birthday, he had received a gift with a card bearing well-wishes from his commander and the president of Esthar.  
  
Now, it seemed young Brougham was ready at last to graduate. He'd faced the Fire Cavern and defeated an avatar of Ifrit, securing his place in the upcoming Field Exam mission. The SeeD observer that had accompanied the young man on the excursion into the volcanic cave, Selphie Tilmitt, stated with enthusiasm that Brougham's archery had felled attacking Buels and Red Bats almost faster than she could react. And, she screamed in all-capitals, he'd shot Ifrit right in the eye. The Guardian Force had been so amazed that a cadet had done so much without the help of Shiva and Blizzard spells that it had acquiesced almost immediately, a ringing endorsement for Brougham's talents. As if the reviews weren't enough.  
  
"Surprise, surprise," Squall muttered, rubbing his clean-shaven chin. "Maybe it's best he doesn't care much for spells, or he'd be able to take over the Garden."  
  
Rinoa looked up sharply from the paper she was reading and regarded her husband-to-be with a mixture of shock, alarm and worry. "What?"  
  
"I'm kidding." He watched her lovely face fall, then screw up with mock irritation. Squall knew people still weren't used to him making jokes, even the woman he was soon to marry. It didn't bother him -- he knew exactly why they were still adjusting. In fact, it often gave him the chance to get the drop on people, because they just weren't expecting humor from the SeeD Commander.  
  
"Oh, you," Rinoa admonished, and leaned over from where she sat on the end of his desk to firmly press her lips to his for a moment. "Is that Kent?"  
  
Squall waggled the report in the air and proclaimed, "If Galbadia Garden could graduate SeeDs who would succeed without Guardian Forces, then by the spirits, Balamb Garden can graduate one SeeD who doesn't like magic." He slapped the papers down on the desk with a satisfying "thwack" and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. "The kid has a point, you know."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
He told her, "We fall into patterns of thought, established ways of doing things. I'm especially vulnerable to it. You know that as well as I do. SeeD needs people like Kent Brougham to shake us up, keep us on our toes."  
  
Rinoa traced one slender finger along Squall's jawline, then down his chest. "I only had to beat you about the head and shoulders with a lead pipe, what's the problem?" she asked with an impish smirk.  
  
"My problem," he growled back playfully as he caught her hand and held it up to his lips, "is that my fiancée is a brat!" He nibbled gently on her finger, then kissed it and clasped the hand in both of his. "Seriously, though, I'd graduate Brougham without a Field Exam if I could get away with it."  
  
"You're that sure of his capability?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Yeah," he replied, "I am. But I can't do things that way, as much as I'd like to, so I guess we'll use the Field Exam as an opportunity to see just how good Brougham really is."  
  
"Have you decided on the mission?"  
  
Squall shook his head. Field Exam missions gave him fits, and he always caught himself putting off the decisions until the last minute. This time, he decided, he'd get some outside opinions. "No. Having a tough time figuring out which contract request could handle the worst-case scenario." Which was, as he always remembered, the complete failure of the cadets to achieve their assigned goals, necessitating the intervention of the SeeD observers. The concern was actually two-fold: For one, the time required for extracting the cadets from the combat zone and inserting the full SeeDs could be too long for the mission. For the other, any mission difficult enough to fail an entire platoon of cadets was a bad, possibly fatal test, and a failure on Squall's part to find the right balance between difficulty and survivability. Individuals would fail in any Field Exam. That was the purpose of the test -- to separate the wheat from the chaff. But the failure of an entire testing platoon was a failure at the highest level of SeeD.  
  
"I always ask this, and you always say no," Rinoa chided softly, "but do you want some help?"  
  
"Yes," replied Squall.  
  
She blinked in surprise. "Okay... How about we get together with Xu and Quistis later and hack at the problem?"  
  
"That sounds like a wonderful idea." He slid one hand up the arm of the hand he held and put his other hand on her other arm, then pulled her toward him. "Later."  
  
Cursed, that's what he was. Just as he got Rinoa into his lap, the telecom panel on his desk beeped insistently, a repeating double-tone that told him someone inside the Garden was trying to get hold of him. "I'm gonna cut that thing out with my gunblade," he growled, and stabbed the Receive button. "Leonhart."  
  
"It's Xu. You know I hate to interrupt you, especially when you gave specific instructions not to do so, but... I'm not sure what to do about this, um, situation."  
  
Hearing the nervous tone in Xu's voice, Rinoa slid out of Squall's lap. The Commander leaned forward attentively. "Go ahead."  
  
"I've got an incoming call for you, specifically. I think you'll want to take this one."  
  
"Who is it?" he asked, feeling dread curdle in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"It's... Jean-Paul LaFleur."  
  
Jean-Paul LaFleur. Former SeeD cadet. Former member of the student body Disciplinary Committee. Former lackey of Seifer Almasy.  
  
Jean-Paul LaFleur, called Raijin.  
  
"Put him through," Squall said, his voice like a muffled bell tolling disaster.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
The line went dead for a moment, then connected to the sound of street traffic. Squall frowned, moreso than he had been frowning a moment before. Only one place was that noisy. The former Deling City, now called Galbadia City. "Leonhart," he said to acknowledge the connection.  
  
"Squall?" The single word told Squall a lot. Raijin was boisterous, loud, his voice fitting for a man of his nigh-titanic stature. He spoke with the melodious accent of the southern reaches of the western continent, his homeland. But that one word was flat, almost monotone. Something was horribly wrong. For him to call Squall Leonhart, rival of his best friend and commander of the organization he had left behind, and speak in such a heartbroken manner...  
  
"Yeah, Raijin, go ahead, what's up?"  
  
"Hey, man, thanks for taking my call. I know a lot's gone down between us. Means a lot to me, ya know. We... I need a favor."  
  
Rinoa's eyebrows shot up her forehead. She'd never borne any ill-will toward Raijin or Fujin Kazeno, or even Seifer himself. But the "posse" had always been self-sufficient, right up to the end, and last anyone had heard the three had settled their differences and struck off for new horizons.  
  
"I'm listening, go on," Squall said.  
  
"I don't have much time, this call's expensive. Long distance charges, ya know. I... Fujin and me, we wanna come back to the Garden."  
  
Squall looked at Rinoa, Rinoa looked at Squall. What the hell could have happened? "Just one second," he said to Raijin, then hit the Mute button on the panel. "Fujin and Raijin back in Balamb Garden? There'd be another Garden Riot."  
  
"The War is over, Squall, it's a new time. Listen to him, something awful must have happened. Give them a chance?"  
  
(Dammit,) he thought to himself. (And I thought the biggest worry for today would be the blasted Field Exam.) Rinoa had a point, though. This was a new time and the world was trying to move forward. Squall had made a lot of changes. Maybe it was time to extend an olive branch. He unmuted the telecom panel and said, "Tell you what, come to Balamb Garden and we can talk about it. I think we can work something out."  
  
"You're the best, man. Um... Well, could ya send someone to pick us up? We're broke and, um... Fujin's really sick." The last three words were nearly choked. "Spent our last gettin' her some medicine that didn't work, and I can't take the time for any bounty hunting or anything like that so I can take her to a hospital. It's bad, real bad."  
  
A lengthy train-ride from Galbadia City to Balamb via the Intercontinental Railway wouldn't do the albino much good, in that case. The best way to transport them would be... "I'll send the Ragnarok. High-profile, but it's the best option. You're in Galbadia City, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Meet it outside the city, east side?"  
  
"Right." It would be easiest to pick them up them outside the city's primary gate. "I'll get on it immediately. Raijin..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Don't worry. The past is the past."  
  
"You really are the best, ya know? We'll be there. 'Bye." The connection broke, leaving Squall feeling like his world had just turned upside-down.  
  
A soft touch broke him from his bewilderment. Rinoa crouched down next to his chair, her eyes twinkling. "I am so proud of you right now, I just can't tell you," she said.  
  
"I think I forgave them all a long time ago. I'm just worried about the reactions from everyone else." Squall scrubbed at his face with a hand and exhaled a massive sigh. "Life's gonna be interesting." (Time to think outside the box...)  
  
--------------------  
  
He usually liked Sunday mornings. Comic strips in the newspaper, fishing with his uncle, the promise of a good football game on television in the autumn. At Balamb Garden there had been all-you-can-eat pancake breakfasts and unrestricted free time. After the War there had been quiet time when he could relax and just love life.  
  
But now, on this Sunday morning, he just couldn't relax.  
  
Raijin knew his fussing and fretting was driving Fujin up the wall. He tried to keep his worry inside and put on that old "posse game-face", but it was just too hard. The medicine he'd bought for Fujin hadn't done a thing. There was nothing more the clinic could do, and he couldn't afford a major hospital. He'd even tried para-magic. Nothing.  
  
He loved Fujin more now than he ever had before, knowing just how strong she really was, how hard she was fighting. He could barely stand thinking about how much of an honor it was that she had called him brother, given him a name from her people, made him family. He'd locked the bathroom door and turned on the shower last night so that she wouldn't wake and hear him weeping. If only he'd tried harder to find a good-paying job, made more money bounty hunting, tried harder to find Seifer and begged him for help, he could do something for Fujin. But he hadn't been able to find Seifer, they were out of money and she needed help. So he'd done the only thing he could think of. He'd called Squall.  
  
Fujin had resisted at first, but for once he'd been able to change her mind. Raijin honored her request not to tell Xu what was happening; if Fujin's blood sister found out what was going on, all Hell would break loose. Lady Luck had flashed her winning smile, and now the Estharian dragon-ship that SeeD had claimed for its own was streaking across the skies to rescue them. Somehow it still wasn't enough to put Raijin at ease, though. He looked over at Fujin, sitting ten meters away, propped against the trunk of an old beech tree with a light blanket draped over her slender form. He'd carried her out of the city, daring with his eyes anyone to stand in his way, to question him. No one had.  
  
"Hey, Fu?" he called. The albino's head turned a fraction. "Your sis is gonna find out when we get to the Garden." Fujin's single sanguine eye blinked slowly. She knew. Xu Kazeno was widely known as a pillar of calm strength, but her devotion to her younger sister was very deep. "She's gonna fuss." The blanket shifted just a bit as Fujin shrugged. It didn't matter now. "Yeah, I guess."  
  
It felt like hours since he'd talked to Squall. He knew it hadn't been long at all, but the waiting was killing him. He wouldn't be able to relax until Fujin was under Dr. Kadowaki's care in the Garden Infirmary. The lazy clouds drifting overhead strolled past, lollygagging and watching the sick albino and her mountainous protector with a kind of callous curiosity. The rustling of the elm in the careless breeze sounded almost like a kind of mocking laughter. Raijin felt his fists clench of their own accord. He wanted to hit something. Hard.  
  
"Raijin..." Fujin's weak whisper nearly didn't reach him. "Relax."  
  
"I'm sorry, Fu. I'm just... ya know?" The word "worried" was something the posse never said. Even after the posse had split up, Raijin still didn't like to say it. But he was worried. Oh, spirits, he was more worried than he'd ever been in his entire life. He stopped watching the sky and walked over to sit cross-legged next to Fujin.  
  
"Do not," Fujin replied. One porcelain-pale hand emerged from beneath the blanket and came to rest on Raijin's arm. Her skin was chilled, but she was sweating.  
  
He covered that hand as gently as he could with his own, wishing there were some way he could give some of his strength to her in that touch. "Maybe. But I can't help myself."  
  
The albino's eye closed, and for a moment Raijin thought she'd gone to sleep again. But she whispered to him finally, "Burden... Apologize."  
  
"Aw, come on, Fu, you don't gotta be like that. You didn't wanna make me afraid for you. I respect that, ya know? You take care of me, ya know? So now I'm takin' care of you."  
  
The woman's lips curled in a faint smile. Almost no one saw Fujin Kazeno smile, except Jean-Paul LaFleur and Seifer Almasy. Now Seifer was gone, so the smile was for Raijin alone. "Survive."  
  
"We always do, ya know? We always survive." Yeah, they always survived. They'd gotten through the War intact, they could beat this. Raijin was amazed how much Fujin could do with a single word. He wasn't relaxed yet, but for the moment he wasn't ready to tear the world apart.  
  
"Remember that night in Timber, when that guy in the suit got up on the bar and started to sing?" he mused, more to keep the feeling going than anything else. "Remember Seifer? Gettin' up to charge the ladies for a show, then payin' the guy to start takin' his suit off? I thought you were gonna kill him. Or that other time when that farmer's chocobo ran us down and Seifer went after it screamin' about fried chocobo dinner?" From the sound of her breathing Raijin knew Fujin had indeed drifted off. "Yeah... Good times. We're gonna have more good times, I promise. Swear by my grandmama's ashes," he invoked, calling up the most solemn oath he could think of from his home. "Yeah."  
  
Raijin moved to lean against the tree and risked disturbing Fujin enough to put his arm around her so that she was leaning against his broad chest, over his heart. He remembered how his papa had done this for him when he was a little boy, telling him, "Listen to the heartbeat, the music of life. It's the music I make for you, son, Papa's love for you." Papa was gone now, but little Jean-Paul would always remember. That heartbeat would carry on in his memory.  
  
He had dozed off himself by the time the Ragnarok neared. The rumble of its great engines entered into his mind, a dream of thunder before a beautiful storm. The sudden hiss of landing jets was a flash of lightning in his dream and he awoke to the sight of the scarlet ship settling on the level ground. "Fu, wake up, they're here."  
  
The belly of the metal beast disgorged its landing ramp and two uniformed SeeDs descended and stopped at the bottom, a young man and woman Raijin didn't recognize. Raijin scooped up Fujin and began walking toward them with measured, cushioned strides. With each step he felt a little more hope. When he reached the waiting SeeDs they saluted in unison, surprising him. "Sir, we're here to take you to Balamb Garden," said the male.  
  
"Let's go. Time's wastin', ya know?" 


	2. Part Two

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART TWO  
  
  
The sight of the Ragnarok never failed to stir Squall's emotions. The crimson dracoform ship had saved his life and, more importantly, Rinoa's from the depths of space. It had flown him through the sky to rescue her again from Estharian stasis. He felt a bit silly knowing he was grateful to the vessel, but as Rinoa might say, "There's nothing wrong with a little sentimentality now and then." As he watched the Ragnarok settle on the special landing zone that had been constructed shortly after Balamb Garden had been resettled in its resting place some kilometers northeast of the city, he gave silent thanks once more. (Always helping me do the right thing.)  
  
The landing ramp descended and a massive man made his way down to the tarmac. Raijin turned to look back up into the cavernous belly of the ship and watched without moving as the two SeeDs gently maneuvered a wheeled gurney down the ramp. He shuffled along beside the gurney as they approached the SeeD Commander, walking like a man defeated, and as they neared Squall could see the lines of worry and fear etched into Raijin's sun-dark face.  
  
"Sir, we need to get her to the Infirmary right away," said one of the SeeDs.  
  
Squall nodded and waved them past, then held up his hand to stop Raijin. "What happened?" he asked.  
  
The muscular man shrugged, his shoulders shuffling around in their stoop, never quite straightening. "Tried to wake her up and she wouldn't come around. She's so cold, I thought maybe... ya know? But she's still breathin'."  
  
"I alerted Dr. Kadowaki the moment you entered our airspace. She'll take care of it." Squall knew the only place Raijin would want to be at this moment was beside Fujin, but that was the one place he would be most underfoot, getting in the doctor's way. "Let's get you settled into a room, we can talk later. You have any bags?"  
  
Raijin shook his head slowly. "All I got is the stuff I'm wearin', and Fujin."  
  
"We'll get you fixed up. Come on inside."  
  
They passed through the vehicle garage and into the brightly-lit interior of the Garden. Raijin's shoulders squared almost immediately, as if the memories of his time in this place were propping him up. "Ain't changed a bit," he observed breathlessly.  
  
"I think the old saying is, 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it,' or something like that." There had been a few small changes, of course -- the office at the top of the central hub elevator shaft had become the bridge of the mobile Garden, and was now being used as a command-and-control center. Cid Kramer, the nominal Garden Headmaster, had declined the offer of a new office, and Squall, the de-facto Headmaster by virtue of his rank, had taken a smaller unused classroom on the second level for business matters. "You going to be all right?"  
  
For a moment Raijin was silent. His thoughts were written large across his face, in the widening of his eyes and the parting of his lips -- Squall Leonhart, asking about someone else's feelings? "I gotta survive, ya know. I gotta be all right."  
  
"Just remember, if you need to talk to somebody, the Garden's full of good ears." (Never thought I'd say something like that.) "Cid and Edea are still here, and Rinoa. Quistis." Squall led the big man down the colonnaded spoke-walkway to the dormitory section, absorbing the sights and sounds of cadets and SeeDs enjoying the sun, reading, tossing a baseball, singing. These things were still kind of new to him, so he tended to notice them wherever he went. He hoped they reassured Raijin as much as they did him. "We've had a drop in enrollment recently. Families are keeping closer together, young people are sticking around to help rebuild their homes. And since Trabia Garden's been completed and upgraded into a full-capacity Garden, we've transfered some SeeDs there too."  
  
They passed out of the sun into the first-floor lobby of the dormitory and turned left into the male's wing. Squall waved off a salute by the cadet manning the security desk and said to Raijin, "Singles are still on the third level so the SeeDs don't have to be annoyed by screaming cadets passing through." They passed open doors into double-bed cadet suites. The sounds of stereos and televisions, conversations and laughter drifted out to mingle in a glorious cacophony of life. Halfway down the curving corridor they reached the elevator to the upper level. Squall poked the single large button framed with decorative scrollwork on the wall. "Never there when you want it." (What am I doing? I'm babbling like an idiot.)  
  
"Can I ask you somethin'?" Raijin inquired.  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"You think there's any chance Fu and me can get back into things?"  
  
Now it was Squall's turn to be surprised. "Get back into what things?"  
  
"SeeD, ya know? Missions. Training cadets. SeeD things."  
  
The elevator dinged and the double doors hissed open. The men stepped into the lift, the doors hissing shut again behind them. "The Garden isn't a hotel," Squall said pointedly. "You said you wanted to come back, so I took it at face value."  
  
"Yeah, I meant it. When can I start?"  
  
(He's really eager,) the Commander mused. The doors opened once more to admit them to the upper dormitory level. (Must be afraid I'll turn around and kick him right back out.) "When do you want to start?"  
  
"How 'bout tomorrow? I can't sit around mopin' all the time, ya know? Fu would kick my ass."  
  
(She would at that, if she's anything like I remember.) "I don't have any Instructor openings at the moment, and I'm not going to send you right back out on a contract, not with Fujin in the shape she's in. I know you're w--"  
  
"Don't say that word, ya know?"  
  
"...about her. So let me think about it. I've got a meeting tonight with some of the faculty, they should have some ideas. I'll let you know as soon as possible."  
  
The top level of the wing was much quieter than the ones below, and soundproofing kept the roar from penetrating into this sanctum. Squall led Raijin to the end of the carpeted corridor, farthest from the third-floor lobby, and pulled a key card from his pocket. "This is yours," he said as he handed it over to the big man. "I think you remember all the security regulations about these."  
  
"Yeah, kinda had 'em drilled into us."  
  
"No kidding, I still remember thinking it was crazy. Anyway, I have to go. This job's got me running all over the place. If you need anything, just use your study panel. Selphie Tilmitt helped upgrade the server network, so we've got point-to-point communication through the whole Garden now." He turned to go and was stopped by Raijin's expansive hand on his arm.  
  
"Hey... I just wanted to say thanks again, man. From me and Fu both."  
  
Squall clapped him on the shoulder and nodded. "Welcome back to the Garden, Raijin." He turned and walked away, acutely aware of the other man's eyes on his back, following him. So far, everything was going well. He closed his eyes as he stepped into the elevator and fervently wished that things would keep going the same way.  
  
--------------------  
  
Pale steel eyes studied the patterns of light that visualized the rhythms and signs of the patient's body. Heartbeat. Respiration. Blood pressure. Temperature. Neural activity. Except for the nearly hypothermic temperature of Fujin Kazeno's body and the albino's now comatose state, everything was perfectly normal. (Hyne's blood,) Dia L'nar cursed, (there's nothing wrong with her. What in Hell is happening?)  
  
Dr. Kadowaki's resident assistant turned from her contemplation of the Estharian bioscanner and gazed hopefully toward the door to the lab, where the esteemed doctor herself was performing delicate bloodwork. Dia brushed an irritating lock of platinum-blonde hair back from her face and grit her teeth. Fujin had been brought into the Infirmary an hour ago. Kadowaki had made her preliminary diagnosis, drawn blood and vanished into the lab fifteen minutes later, ordering Dia to monitor the patient and report any change. Nothing so far. There was almost nothing Dia hated more than a mystery with no clues, nothing to grab hold of to start following the trail -- especially when the mystery was a patient.  
  
During her cadet career at Galbadia Garden, Dia had experienced all manner of illnesses, as well as mysterious conditions brought about by less-than-natural causes. Cadets were notorious for trying to cover their excesses and vices, and she'd learned quickly to ferret out the truth. She'd also learned first-hand how to deal with sudden outbreaks of viral and bacteriological infections, some of which she privately thought had been tests by the Galbadian government of biological weapons. She'd even helped isolate and catalog a brand new type of influenza. But this... This was almost unearthly. Nothing she had learned gave her any idea what was happening to Fujin. Dia could handle something being outside the range of her experience, but when she'd caught the quickly-smothered expression on Dr. Kadowaki's face, she'd known an instant of fear.  
  
The doctor's voice reached her over the intercom. "Dia, come here and take a look at this."  
  
Dia rose from the wheeled stool next to Fujin's bed and, with a last, lingering glance at the bioscanner, left the cubicle. (Good thing there are no other patients in here right now,) she thought as she passed empty beds on her way to the lab door. Her fingers danced over the keypad on the wall, entering the access code of their own accord. The door slid aside to allow her entry into the decontamination cell beyond. She stepped into the red-lit meter and a half square chamber, and the door closed behind her with a firm thunk. The walls reverberated with a low thrum that vibrated up through her feet and into her bones as the chamber did its work, scanning her and neutralizing any biological and chemical contaminants it detected. The light changed from red to green, and the door in the far wall slid aside. Dia stepped into the lab.  
  
"Tell me," said the matronly physician as she looked up from the microscope terminal at which she sat, "what you make of this."  
  
Dia crossed over and looked at the display. "Perfectly healthy hematocytes, good leukocyte count. What I'm seeing is nothing, Doctor, is that what you mean?"  
  
"At first, yes. No blood-borne pathogen, no sign of illness of any kind. I have to admit I've reached the end of my rope, so don't be surprised with what I show you next."  
  
That didn't sound good. The finest doctor outside Esthar and, Dia would feel confident betting, in the entire world, Dr. Kadowaki never showed desperation. The only thing keeping panic from leaping out and strangling Dia's mind was the faint smile on the doctor's lips, telling her that finally, some clue had been found. "Okay."  
  
"This here is Fujin's blood, as drawn. I had a wild notion and added in 1 cc of point-two percent UPM solution. Thank the spirits I had the recorder running. Look what I found." Kadowaki pressed a button on the terminal and the picture became a movie. The cells danced and collided haphazardly, microscopic shoppers in a crowded liquid mall. For a few seconds all was normal. But just as Dia was about to comment, sparks of light flared into sudden brilliance throughout the view, then faded as suddenly as they had come. "At first, I'm afraid, I had no idea what it meant. But then I checked the UPM level of the sample." Dia wouldn't have been surprised if a drumroll had sounded. "Zero."  
  
Zero. Zero Undifferentiated Para-Magic. In the presence of living cells with active mitochondria, that was... "Impossible."  
  
"See for yourself." Kadowaki nodded toward the numerical displays next to the image.  
  
UPM: 0.0000%  
  
"I know for a fact that this machine was calibrated. I did it myself, early this morning. Dia, we're looking at a hitherto-unknown and possibly fatal condition relating to para-magical energies, the first reported case of any such condition that I know of."  
  
Unknown condition. A new type of illness. A brand new mystery without any predecessors, something they would have to attempt to treat without any precedent. (This would be exciting if it wasn't scaring me so much,) Dia thought as she felt herself growing cold. "What are we going to do?"  
  
"We're going to do our best, Dia. That's what we always do."  
  
How could she do her best when she didn't even know where to begin? Was this some kind of sick cosmic joke? Swallowing her frustration, Dia nodded. "Can we run that test again with a stronger UPM solution?"  
  
"We're on the same track. We only have the point-two solution on hand, I'll need you to prepare some at point-five and one percent."  
  
"I'll get right on it." At least she would have something to occupy her mind briefly.  
  
Preparation of UPM solution was simple. Distilled water was passed through a decontamination chamber much like the one between the Infirmary and the lab. Dia filled two liter-size sterilized bottles, then walked over to a cabinet and took out a sealed container full of a very fine powder. This was the essence of the solution, pulverized from stones collected by cadets in the field. These stones contained undifferentiated para-magical energy, condensed at the moment of death from the Lunar-descended wildlife vulgarly called "monsters".  
  
Para-magical energy was inherent to the universe itself. Since its discovery -- or, more accurately, its rediscovery -- by Helmut Odine, a race had been on among scientists and cosmologists worldwide to identify para-magic as the basis for a Grand Unified Theory of existence.  
  
The energy was transformed into various resonances, "flavors", by the interactions of known forces. In living beings it was intensified to the point that each cataloged species "carried" the differentiated potential for the energy quanta known popularly as "spells"; cadets regularly drew Fire and Cure spells from the insectoids native to the Alcauld Plains. In some cases differentiated para-magical energy in a monster would remain upon its death, trapped in physical form and able to be harvested and released at a later time. At others, the base energy would coalesce without flavoring, and could be manipulated later on to create a dazzling array of useful items.  
  
The simple process Dia was performing was the basis for the manufacture of healing draughts known popularly as "potions". All she would have to do from here was flavor the UPM solution with Cure resonance to create a batch. She could instead use the purifying spell known as Esuna to create medicine capable of curing natural diseases or para-magically inflicted hindrances. With a bit more work she could even render a draught that would restore a Guardian Force avatar wounded in the heat of battle. The science of medicine had been advanced by orders of magnitude by forces once thought to be unknowable, or even fictional.  
  
After measuring out precise amounts of the UPM powder Dia funneled the substance into the bottles one at a time, carefully labeling each container, then took the bottles to the mixer. She locked each bottle in place in a holder much like a sconce, and closed the transparent shield. The machine whirred to life, violently shaking the bottles from side to side. (Light-years beyond traditional medicine, and here I am using a barely-modified paint mixer on it,) she thought with a smirk.  
  
When the mixing was complete Dia removed the bottles and took them to a small table. Though the lab had a fluid measuring and dispensing unit, both doctor and assistant prefered to do some tasks, like the filling of the smaller bottles into which Dia now placed some of each solution, by hand. "Here you are," she said as she set the 100 mL bottles down in front of Kadowaki. "I'll clean up and go check on Fujin."  
  
"Thank you," the doctor replied, and rose from her chair. Kadowaki stretched and took a deep breath. "What time is it?"  
  
"About fifteen-hundred." Once again, the intrepid physician had completely missed lunch. "If you like I could run to the cafeteria and get you something."  
  
Kadowaki shook her slowly-graying head, then reconsidered and nodded. "Yes, please do. I think I'm going to need it. Thank you."  
  
Passage back through the decontamination chamber took no less time than before. In error on the side of caution, the chamber had been designed on the assumption that it was possible to pick up something in the lab that shouldn't be spread to the outside world. The light turned green and Dia stepped back into the Infirmary proper, then made her way to Fujin's cubicle. A quick glance was all Dia needed to see that the albino's condition had not changed. (At least,) she thought bitterly, (she's stable now.)  
  
As Dia turned away from her patient, she felt a tingling in the back of her mind, a contact from the Guardian Force to which she was Junctioned. In irritation she brushed Siren aside. (Not now, dammit.) This wasn't the time for a friendly chat, she had work to do. 


	3. Part Three

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART THREE  
  
  
The room was just too empty. Raijin lay on his new bed and stared at the ceiling, trying his best not to think. Things just didn't feel right, not without the sensation of Fujin's presence. Not without her quiet breathing, or her jacket hanging limply from the chair. He didn't mind so much that there were no possessions of his individualizing the space. It didn't feel like home because his sister was missing.  
  
This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to do. Everything he tried to think about came back to Fujin, no matter how hard he tried. With a growl of frustration he swung himself off the bed and stabbed one thick finger at the computer panel to bring it to life. Seifer had taught him how to use the network years back, but Raijin had never seen much reason to put the knowledge to use. Now he immersed himself in the digital chatter of cadets on the message boards, browsed the information site for the upcoming Garden Festival.  
  
Sheer stubbornness kept him at the panel for over an hour. On an impulse he checked the Garden "address book", the cadet-accessible list of assigned rooms, but he didn't see any names he recognized. "Time keeps on sailin'," Uncle Michel used to say, "and it don't wait for no man." Time, it was starting to seem, had almost left Jean-Paul waiting on the dock. Now he was hanging off the stern and trying to pull himself into the boat.  
  
On the dock... Raijin's face nearly split with a grin as he remembered the day, just after the end of the War, when he, Fujin and Seifer had been fishing off the docks in Balamb. Everything was quiet, and then his line had begun to jerk. The fish he'd pulled out of the water was average, as Balamb-fish went, but it had been his catch, and Seifer hadn't caught a thing all day long. One moment he'd been proudly admiring the fish, the next Fujin's boot planted firmly in his rear end and propelled him, his pole and his fish into the water. Raijin didn't remember the comment he'd been about to make; all three of them had been silenced by the graceful passage of Balamb Garden overhead. His fish had somehow slipped the hook, but he hadn't minded. He could have forgiven anything Fujin or Seifer did or said; he still could, probably.  
  
Even with the panel, Raijin eventually found himself back where he started. He could go to the Training Center, but he didn't have a weapon, and if his pants or shirt were torn in a fight he didn't have anything else to wear. He could go to the cafeteria, but he wasn't really hungry. He could go to the Infirmary... No, all he'd do then was stand around and mope. Maybe he could get a walk to Balamb in. Nah...  
  
Well, there was always the lobby.  
  
A peculiar dread snuck out of the shadows of Raijin's mind and curled around his spine. He'd never been good about meeting new people, especially on his own. Which was worse, sitting in this empty room or standing around in the middle of a bunch of people he didn't know and tripping all over himself?  
  
Fujin's voice told him, quite clearly, "Room."  
  
"All right, Fu, I'm goin', I'm goin'," he replied out of habit, levered his bulk out of the chair in front of the panel and strode into the corridor without a second thought. Before he could question what he was doing he emerged from the hall into the lobby, to be greeted by the inquisitive faces of the SeeDs already gathered there. (Oh, boy,) he thought, but it was already too late.  
  
None of the four present challenged Raijin's right to be there. The dormitory was specifically constructed to prevent "wrong turns" by visitors, so it was obvious Raijin belonged. "How ya doin'?" one of the SeeDs, a small black-haired man with a thick Galbadian countryside twang. "Ain't seen ya 'round before, you transfer in?"  
  
"Uh... well..." Raijin began. How would he explain this? "Sorta, yeah."  
  
"Have a seat," invited a boyishly cute redhead, her hair cut into a short fashionable shag atop her head. Raijin hesitated for a moment, then took one of the chairs from the unoccupied square card table, turned it around and sat down. "I'm Amber," the redhead informed him. "This is Jake, Latitia and Shock," she continued, pointing in turn at the man who had first spoken, a pretty dark-chocolate-skinned girl with her ebony hair in tightly-woven beaded braids, and a wild-looking blonde stringbean perched on the back of the couch.  
  
"Name's Herman," the wildman said, "but I only respond to that from the Commander."  
  
"I'm R--"  
  
"STUPID!" Fujin's voice warned him.  
  
"--really glad to meet you guys," Raijin continued, hoping nobody noticed his flub. "Don't know many folks around here, ya know?"  
  
Jake laughed and slapped the arm of his chair. "Well now ya do. Where'd ya come in from?"  
  
This, at least, Raijin could answer truthfully. "Galbadia."  
  
"Ain't that somethin'," Jake replied. "Ya must not a' been there long, I don't remember ya."  
  
"Wasn't there too long." Okay, this was turning in the wrong direction.  
  
"Hey, that's cool. Since the War lotsa SeeDs been bouncin' around. Just had a bunch from here move up to good ol' Trabia."  
  
The instant Jake finished speaking, Shock vaulted off the couch and stuck his hand in Raijin's face. "Yeah, but Balamb Garden's still the best!" Raijin took the other man's hand and was surprised by the pressure he felt in the shake. "If you've never been here before, oh man, you're gonna love it."  
  
"Oh, I was here for a while, back before the War, ya know." Raijin felt a small knot loosening between his shoulders. "Good to be back."  
  
"Welcome home, then," Latitia said. "What's your name?"  
  
Backed into a wall. Raijin cleared his throat nervously. "Um, Jean-Paul."  
  
"Well, Jean-Paul," Shock said as he clamped a hand on Raijin's shoulder, "you're in luck. We, the Fearsome Foursome, just happen to have a position open to take a newly-arrived SeeD transfer under our wing. Stick with us and you can't go wrong."  
  
For a moment Raijin wondered if Shock had heard about Seifer Almasy and his posse. With that kind of statement, the forcefully-extroverted blonde was sounding a lot like Seifer in some of Almasy's more grandstanding moments. "Sounds good."  
  
Latitia flashed a killer grin as she stood from her seat. "Never fear, Shock is here. Unfortunately, ladies, gentlemen... Shock... I have to be on my way. We still on for tomorrow night?"  
  
"'Course we are," Jake told her. "You seriously think any of us would miss it?"  
  
"Didn't think so. See you later, Jean-Paul." The gorgeous dark woman winked at Raijin and sauntered out of the lobby, down the females' wing corridor.  
  
"Oooh," cooed Shock, "I think she likes you."  
  
"Naw, she's jus' bein' friendly," Jake disagreed with a laugh.  
  
The unexpected camaraderie was doing a great job of lifting the dark burden on Raijin's mind. He figured he'd get along with these people really well. The moment that thought crossed his mind, Shock looked over Raijin's head and said, "Hey, Quisty. Come and meet the new guy."  
  
Instructor Quistis Trepe stepped forward with her hand extended, and stopped dead when Raijin turned to look at her, his eyes wide like a cornered animal. "What are you doing here, Raijin?" Quistis breathed.  
  
Silence reigned supreme. Jake and Amber looked at each other and shrugged, having no clue what Quistis was talking about, but Shock backed up two paces. "Whoa. No way," he blurted after several seconds of gawking. "Like, *the* Raijin? As in, Fujin and Raijin, Seifer Almasy's cronies?"  
  
"It... it ain't... like that, ya know?" Raijin fumbled. "Yeah, that's me. Was me. Aw, hell," he cursed, slumping in his chair. Any chance he'd had at making solid friendships had just been blown.  
  
Quistis looked from Shock to Jake and Amber. "Do you mind if I take him outside? I have a few questions for him."  
  
"Lighten up, Trepe," Amber said, her eyes rolling. "He's a nice guy."  
  
Raijin assured the redhead, "No, it's okay. I... got a lot of things to answer for, ya know?" He looked at Quistis, saw the glacial ice in her blue eyes and felt his stomach drop. "Okay."  
  
"Come on," the lanky Instructor said simply. Raijin stood and followed her to the elevator in the females' wing, trailing a few paces behind her the entire way.  
  
(I shoulda known this was too good to be true,) he thought. (It was goin' too easy.) Quistis took up a position in a back corner of the lift, commanding him with her eyes to stand as far away from her as he could. He got out first on the bottom level and waited for her; she stalked out and down the corridor, still not speaking. The cadet at the security desk looked questioningly at Raijin when the Instructor strode past without so much as acknowledging his salute. All the big man could do was shrug helplessly.  
  
Quistis led him to a wide open space along the exterior of the curving inner wall of the dormitory section, then whirled around and skewered him with her gaze. "What," she demanded, her voice all the more threatening because she was nearly murmuring instead of shouting, "is going on here?"  
  
Shock had become fear. Fear was now becoming anger. Raijin scowled at the beautiful blonde and spat, "I don't gotta tell you anything, ya know?"  
  
"What are you doing here?" Quistis repeated, her voice rising.  
  
"Go ask Squall," he told her, and turned to walk away. (I've had enough of this.)  
  
"Dammit, Raijin, answer me!"  
  
Raijin turned his head to look at her. The Instructor's hands were clenched, much like his had been a few hours ago. Something was eating at her, he could tell. "Why you gotta be like this?"  
  
"Remember Lunatic Pandora, Raijin? You broke two of my ribs and probably would have killed me if Squall hadn't stopped you. Not exactly friendly of you."  
  
(Oh... yeah. I guess I... Hey, wait a second!) "Remember Balamb? You wrapped your whip around my neck and hauled me down to the floor. Damn near killed me, ya know?" Wind rustled the bushes nearby. "I know I ain't exactly been your best friend. But you weren't too nice to me."  
  
"I was doing my duty. You turned your back on us, then signed up with the ones we were trying to stop. No matter how hard you try, you can't justify that."  
  
No, he couldn't. She had him there. After all this time he couldn't use his loyalty to Seifer as a defense against what in any country would be treason. But dammit, he would do it all over again. "Sometimes doin' what's right ain't by the book, ya know?"  
  
That caught the Instructor off-guard for a moment, but she was back on the attack before Raijin could say anything more. "Doing what's right? You turned against SeeD and served the Sorceress. How can you call that right?"  
  
"I didn't serve the Sorceress! I was helpin' Seifer!"  
  
Quistis just kept coming like a shark on a blood trail. "Seifer Almasy was the Knight to Sorceress Edea while she was being used by Ultimecia. Her orders came down to you through Seifer. Which means you were serving her. Technically you're still absent without leave, and I could have you arrested this very moment."  
  
"Arrested? Thrown in the stockade?" Raijin glanced around, almost convinced security would be closing in that very second.  
  
"That's right. But I'm not going to."  
  
He stopped hunting the lengthening shadows and looked slowly at the Instructor. "What's the catch?"  
  
"The catch is, you talk to me. If you're here, it means Commander Leonhart let you in. I might not always agree with him but I have to trust his judgement, especially now." Her combative stance relaxed slowly, and the glacial coldness was gone from her eyes. "Xu got a message a little while ago. It upset her a great deal. She muttered something about Fujin and ran off. Xu doesn't get spooked easily. Tell me what's going on."  
  
And here it all came back, like he'd never stopped thinking about it even for a second. Raijin rubbed at his forehead and sighed. Quistis had him beat, but she was willing to deal, so... "Fu's really sick. The medicine I got for her didn't work, and we were broke. I didn't know what to do, ya know? So I called... I called Squall, told him about it. Fu and me, we'd been thinkin' about comin' back anyway, tryin' to make amends. So Squall sent somebody to get us."  
  
"And if whatever it is frightened Xu," Quistis reasoned, "then it must be..." She trailed off, the breeze toying with the long golden locks that framed her delicate face. "All right. If Squall can give you the benefit of the doubt the least I can do is play along."  
  
"I'm scared too. I'm scared real bad."  
  
"I know it must be difficult coming back here, just so that you could get Fujin to Dr. Kadowaki." For a long moment the svelte blonde was silent, and she looked thoughtful. "You know, now that I think about it, the occupation of Balamb during the War was relatively peaceful. I know you and Fujin were in charge of that operation, so I suppose it could be said that you're to thank for the lack of bloodshed."  
  
That was the truth. The occupation of Balamb... Looking for the girl. Ellone. Orders from the top, find the girl and capture her. A lot of the troopers had wanted to simply skewer random townsfolk until one of them talked, but there was no way Raijin would have let that stand. Between him and Fujin they had managed to pound it into the soldiers' heads that the occupation was not to become a bloodbath, troopers and citizens battling each other in the streets in perverse guerilla warfare.  
  
Not like Timber.  
  
"Yeah," Raijin agreed. "Didn't seem right to let 'em just kill people."  
  
"Perhaps in time I could even make myself think that you infiltrated the Galbadian Army on a special SeeD mission." At the beginnings of a smile on Raijin's face, Quistis added forcefully, "In time."  
  
Raijin swallowed down a throat that had gone very, very dry. "All right. Now what?"  
  
"Now," the Instructor told him, "I'm going to go look for Xu and see if I can help her."  
  
"She's probably with the Doc now."  
  
"Probably."  
  
Raijin shook his head sadly, not knowing what to do or say. There was one other thing he wanted to know, though. "I woulda thought you woulda stayed mad. How come you let go so easy?"  
  
Quistis shook her head, sending her bangs waving. "I haven't let go. But as I said, as a SeeD I have to trust my commander's judgement call, so I'm going along with it. I don't quite trust you and I certainly haven't forgiven you, but Squall thinks you're worth the effort. I can be civil."  
  
It sounded fair enough. He held out his hand, which the Instructor took and shook quickly before letting go. One more battle won... and a lot more to come.  
  
Quistis said, "Now that we've got that settled, let's go see if we can get some solid information." With his nod of assent, she led the way to the Infirmary, to get some answers to a mystery that was growing more frightening by the minute.  
  
--------------------  
  
The Infirmary was a place Quistis didn't usually find reason to visit without a great deal of coercion. She was on very good terms with Dr. Kadowaki, but her health was excellent, and her students were, for the most part, careful. Other than regular required physicals, the Instructor had little interaction with the physician. As she stepped through the doorway, however, she was forced to remember that she actively avoided the Infirmary for a quite different reason.  
  
It was unfortunate, really, that the lingering ghost of Raven Argent's presence still drove a wedge between Quistis and Kadowaki's assitant, Dia L'nar. It wasn't anyone's fault, to tell the truth; a simple, unfortunate domino chain of emotional attachments that began with Dia and ended with Quistis had wound up hurting everyone involved.  
  
(No, Quistis, don't start editing your history. You weren't interested in Raven because you thought had a thing for Squall.)  
  
Raven never noticed Dia as more than a friend because his eyes were locked on Quistis... who, in the same vein, never thought of him romantically either. Resentment fermented and concentrated like some mad scientist's experiment on the human heart. Dia gave Quistis the frigid treatment; in the middle of the Ultimecia War, following the battle with Galbadia Garden, Raven quit SeeD and vanished; Quistis was left staring at the empty seat where Raven used to sit when he, Quistis and Xu would get together to play cards and banter, wondering how things might have happened differently.  
  
Time had begun to heal the wounds, but the blonde Instructor didn't feel comfortable around Dia. For her part, the businesslike medical assistant demonstrated no blatant ill-will toward Quistis. (I'm just paranoid. I have to be. It wasn't my fault any more than it was hers.) But Quistis just couldn't shake the guilt.  
  
The first thing she noticed when she entered the Infirmary was how empty it was. The door closed behind Raijin and he said, "Where's Fujin?"  
  
"Not sure." Raising her voice, Quistis called out, "Doctor Kadowaki?" There was no response. The physician was, she assumed, in the lab. She reached over to touch the comm panel on the doctor's desk when footsteps on the polished floor made her look up.  
  
Kadowaki's platinum-blonde assistant looked from Quistis to Raijin more than once. "You're here to see Fujin?"  
  
"Yeah, wanted to find out how she was doin', ya know?" the sun-bronzed man said quietly.  
  
Something was troubling Dia, Quistis could tell that much from the rigid way the woman stood, the way her eyes flicked back and forth between them. (Okay... this has nothing to do with me,) Quistis reasoned. (That's probably not a good sign.)  
  
"Just a moment, please." Dia walked over to the doorway to the decontamination chamber and disappeared inside.  
  
"I'm not likin' this," Raijin muttered.  
  
Quistis shook her head. "Let's not jump to conclusions." (I'm not liking it any more than you.)  
  
Almost immediately, the desk's comm panel came to life. "I'll be right out," the voice of the doctor informed them. True to her word, Kadowaki emerged from the decontamination chamber thirty seconds later. "Just the two people I wanted to see, how fortunate. I haven't seen you for some time, Jean-Paul, how have you been?"  
  
Raijin shrugged. "Been survivin'."  
  
"Not your usual boisterous self, I see. I assure you, we're doing our best for Fujin." Kadowaki smiled in a motherly fashion at the worried man and motioned for him and Quistis to follow her. "Come with me." She led the pair back to the room in which Fujin lay unconscious. The doctor stopped without entering and turned instead to a terminal on the wall. "I've got her in isolation because I have no idea of the severity of what's happening to her. Let me show you what we've found out.  
  
Quistis watched intently as the doctor brought up the recordings she'd made while performing tests on the albino's blood. Kadowaki carefully explained what they were seeing to Raijin, answering his questions calmly and warmly, helping him to understand the highly advanced aspects of what was occuring. Quistis herself was enthralled with a kind of horrid fascination; para-magic was her field of expertise, and whatever was happening to Fujin was striking at the heart of that. (It's just not possible. If Fujin were completely drained of her UPM energy she'd be dead.) "Doctor, could the... entity... somehow be supporting Fujin's life functions in a manner we aren't familiar with?"  
  
"I had the same question. I think, however, that it's somewhat more mundane than that." The Doctor looked to Raijin and said, "How much do you remember about para-magic from your classes?"  
  
Raijin's dark brows furrowed. "I remember learnin' about spells and how to Junction. I remember learnin' that para-magic energy is in everything, especially plants and animals and people."  
  
The doctor nodded her graying head. "That's right. All of us standing here, Fujin lying there, the trees and grass outside, have para-magical energy in varying strengths. It's not just part of life, it's part of existing. We have stronger energy because we're alive."  
  
"Yeah, that's how it went."  
  
"So what do you think would happen if we drained all the para-magic from a living thing? Just sucked it all away?"  
  
"It... It would die."  
  
Again the doctor nodded. "And Fujin is still alive."  
  
"So she has to have somethin' left. But what you just showed us said she didn't have anything. So..." Quistis was impressed by Raijin's reasoning when he continued, "So maybe she's got some but not enough for your machines to pick up?"  
  
"Precisely," Kadowaki said with a beaming smile. "I've sent several samples of Fujin's blood and a full report on my own findings and experiments to Anson Benedict at the Hyne's Grace hospital in Esthar. Dr. Benedict should be able to detect UPM fluctuation several orders of magnitude smaller than I can with his equipment. If we're burning with para-magic like the sun," she said to Raijin, "Fujin might only be a candle right now. But her fire is still there. Dr. Benedict will see it."  
  
The big man slowly leaned his forehead against the transparency through which he could see his adopted sister. "Can ya let me in, Doc? Please?" Quistis felt a twinge in her heart at the plaintive tone of Raijin's voice. (Maybe I was too hard on him?)  
  
"Not right now. We're not certain just how contagious this entity is. I know you were exposed to it before, but it might not jump from host to host unless its 'food supply' runs very low. You can help me help her, though."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Come talk with me," the doctor told him, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on Raijin's arm. "Tell me about what was happening, where you were. You could very well hold a vital clue to ensuring Fujin's recovery."  
  
"Yeah... Yeah, I can do that."  
  
Kadowaki turned then to Quistis. "In-depth knowledge of para-magic will be vital to our efforts."  
  
Quistis nodded. Not only was it her duty as a SeeD, it was her responsibility as an expert in the field and her nature as a human being. "I'll do anything and everything I can."  
  
"I wouldn't ordinarily ask this, but could you ask for a substitute to take over your classes at least for tomorrow?" Kadowaki inquired. "This won't be an overnight effort, I fear."  
  
The Instructor nodded her assent. "I think I'll be able to swing it, this is important."  
  
"Thank you. While I'm talking with Jean-Paul you should probably join Dia in the lab. We've got a few things left to try while we're waiting on the results from Dr. Benedict, and the sooner we get started, the better," Kadowaki told her.  
  
(Professionalism, Quistis.) "I'll call for the sub and get right on it." Perhaps with something to focus her mind on, she wouldn't be so busy feeling like she and Dia were destined for a screaming match that would bring down the Garden. She took another look at Raijin's face, his desperate worry written so large in his eyes, and sighed. (Damn.) "Raijin?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm sorry about... earlier." It wasn't easy, but the subtle change in Raijin's expression told Quistis the admission was worth it.  
  
"Thanks..." He turned back to look at Fujin again. "Sorry, Fu," Quistis heard him whisper. "I'm tryin'."  
  
It was just possible, the blonde Instructor thought as she turned away and began walking back to Kadowaki's desk to call in for a substitute, that she had badly misjudged Jeal-Paul LaFleur because she was looking at him in entirely the wrong light. Especially after the twin debacles with Raven Argent and Squall Leonhart, Quistis led with her mind, thinking her way through everything. Raijin led with his heart first and foremost. From a logical standpoint he was at best a dupe and at worst a traitor. From an emotional one, though, he was a big-hearted man who would do anything for the people he loved.  
  
(Maybe he just needs a gentle steer once in a while to help keep him on track.) She brushed at an irritating tickle on her face and blinked in surprise when her fingertip came away damp. (And just maybe I don't need a heart transplant after all.)  
  
Other concerns re-entered her mind as she sat in Kadowaki's chair and dialed for the staff office. Xu was the Staff Director for Balamb Garden, and had gone running out of the room the moment she'd heard about Fujin. Had she already been here and learned of her sister's condition? Was she off somewhere in the Garden or out on the Alcauld Plains, alone and hurting? Response from the office cut off Quistis's dark musings. "Garden Staff Office, this is Trent." Trent Sothersby, Xu's assistant, was apparently in control of things for the time being.  
  
"Trent, it's Quistis. A couple things -- have you heard from Xu?"  
  
"Yeah, just a few minutes ago," he told her. "She's gonna take a few days off, so I'm in charge for the moment."  
  
"Do you know where she is now?"  
  
Trent "hmmed" for a second as he thought. "She's in her quarters. According to a buddy of mine in C-and-C, she asked for a communications connection to Tai Shan a little bit ago, so they're working on that. Figures she would pick the one place on the planet we don't have direct access to. She sounded really exhausted, though. You have any idea what's going on?"  
  
"No," Quistis lied. It would be better if this didn't get out immediately, at least here at the Garden. Doubtless Xu was calling home to tell her family what was happening. "The other thing is, I need you to line up a sub for me for tomorrow, it's really important."  
  
"Short notice," said Trent. "It's really difficult to line up a substitute for our best para-magical Instructor so fast."  
  
"I know," she agreed, "but it's sort of an emergency. I can't explain right now. Please?"  
  
"I dunno, I may have to clear it with Squall or the Headmaster..."  
  
"Trent!"  
  
Trent laughed brightly at her exasperation. "Hey, easy, just jerking your chain. I'm all over it. You have fun, now."  
  
If Trent Sothersby weren't such a good guy Quistis would probably have clocked him a good one on several occasions for his antics. "Thank you, Trent."  
  
"Sure thing. Maybe you can pay back the favor by going out with me next Friday night?"  
  
"Good-bye, Trent." Quistis broke the connection with a smirk. (Nice to know some things in this changing world are staying the same. That's only the forty-sixth time he's asked me out. Maybe I should say "yes" some day.)  
  
She turned around in startlement as Dia spoke behind her. "He's quite a character, isn't he." When Quistis nodded mutely she continued, "The doctor asked you to help?"  
  
"Yes. This is my field, so I hope I have something to offer."  
  
"I do too," Dia said, shocking the Instructor even further. "This one is dangerous. I don't like it at all. Come on, I'll fill you in while we start working." 


	4. Part Four

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART FOUR  
  
  
Beep.  
  
Beep.  
  
Every five seconds, the computer panel spoke in its own limited fashion, to tell the room's resident that a call was coming through. The sound, a quiet but persistent reminder, drifted through the dim haze of sunset that managed to creep through the blinds drawn over the windows.  
  
A form stirred briefly on the rumpled bed. Xu Kazeno raised her head from her pillow, uncomprehending for a moment of the noise. How long had she slept after her grief was through with her? The last she remembered was burying her face in her pillow and screaming until she thought her throat might catch fire from the burning agony. It still hurt.  
  
Beep.  
  
(What is that... oh.) She brushed strands of her rich brown hair away from where they stuck to her face and sighed with the recognition.  
  
It took her several seconds to lever her exhausted, leaden body into a sitting position, and more to convince herself to rise and shuffle across the room. Sharp pain flared through her right foot as she stepped on the shattered remains of a vase she had unthinkingly dashed to the floor. The sensation cleared her head. Hissing, she hopped the last meter to the chair in front of the panel and acknowledged the call. "Yes?"  
  
"Xu, it's Brendan up in C-and-C. We've got that connection you asked for. It's a little fuzzy, we're using some nonstandard lines and a double satellite relay. Best we could do. I don't mean to be rude, but one of those satellites is that new Estharian survey unit and they probably won't be happy if they find out we're running our own signal through it."  
  
The realm of Tai Shan, which lay in the dense mountainous Grandidi forests north of Esthar, had a history of isolation longer than Esthar itself. Only recently had the elders of her people, the Lin Ren or "Forest People", acknowledged that the xiong-jin or "furious people" were perhaps worth speaking with. The Lin Ren's name for themselves used the character for the exalted form of "humans/persons" -- ren -- while their name for the outsiders used the more common, base form -- jin. Xu had always thought it bitterly ironic that the singular of ren, also called jin and often used as a name particle, as in her sister's name, was pronounced the same as the base form of "people". As if all the rest of the world might add up to just one of the Lin Ren.  
  
(Nobility isn't always a matter of blood,) she reflected. "Thank you. I'll keep it short."  
  
"I owe Selphie Tilmitt dinner for this," the man on the other end muttered.  
  
"I'm sure you'll be all right. Please put it through."  
  
Brendan chuckled and said, "Coming through now." There was a pause, then a burst of static which made Xu recoil in her chair. When it settled, a craggy old voice spoke hesitantly, all the more scratchy for the bad connection.  
  
"Hello?" it said in Xu's native language.  
  
Xu recognized that voice. How could she forget? Chao-Yi was one of the elders of the temple town of Shinjing, a respected, if somewhat strange, old woman who had seen more years than anyone could remember. "Hello, Honored Grandmother," Xu said, using one of the most respectful forms of address. "This is Kazeno Xu. I'm trying to reach my father. Is he about?" It felt good to be speaking her original tongue, to be speaking her name in the proper order, clan first.  
  
"Eh? Your father? Where are you?"  
  
"I'm calling from Balamb," Xu told her.  
  
As she expected, the old woman said, "Where?"  
  
A hint of a smile touched Xu's lips. She couldn't actually expect Chao-Yi to know where Balamb was. "Outside, Honored Grandmother."  
  
"You should come home," the old woman told her firmly. The static cleared for a moment, almost as if the spirits wanted Xu to hear every one of Chao-Yi's words. "Young ladies of you and your sister's standing should not be out among the xiong-jin."  
  
This was an old argument. Well, more of a diatribe; there was no way anyone would ever be able to convince Chao-Yi that anywhere but Tai Shan was the proper place for any of the Lin Ren. "I understand, Honored Grandmother. We will be home soon." Xu's faint smile turned into a frown just as small. It wasn't right that she should feel frustrated, even if Chao-Yi was using valuable time. Chao-Yi was an elder, and it was her right to speak as she wished, for how long she wished. Xu wasn't sure Chao-Yi had even heard her as the static has risen again.  
  
"Well. At least you have kept your manners. That is very good. Your father is on his way. Ah, here he is now." In the background Xu's father, Jin-Feng, greeted Chao-Yi with the same deference Xu had. The old woman made a comment about Xu and Fujin's being away from home, and then Xu's father spoke.  
  
"Xu, it's so good to hear from you," he said. "Your mother can't stop talking about you, she's so excited about you coming home to see us on your break."  
  
"I can't wait to see you." During her all-too-infrequent visits to Tai Shan, Xu always found it difficult to leave again. Her spirit would always be tied to the mountains and forests of her home. Some day she would retire from SeeD and go home, never to leave again. She and Fujin both. "Father, I... I have some... bad news."  
  
"What is it? Are you still able to come home?"  
  
"Yes, it's not that, it's... Fujin."  
  
Jin-Feng asked, "Will she be able to come with you?"  
  
Xu drew a slow, deep breath and tried to steel herself against the swelling pain inside. "She's very sick, Father. Something the doctor has never seen before. She..." It was no good; her resolve shattered. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so scared!" she gasped, in her fear falling back to the speech of a terrified little girl wailing for comfort from her parent.  
  
"Xu? Xu, what's wrong?" The fear had infected Jin-Feng, his voice rising, edgy. "Are you all right?"  
  
"She's in the Infirmary," Xu sobbed, unable to control herself. "She's just lying there... It's like she's already dead!"  
  
The connection began to break, static claiming most of her father's response. "...at it could be?"  
  
"No! They don't know... Daddy?" Silence answered her. The connection had been cut. "Daddy!" No response.  
  
Outside, the sun had finally set, acknowledging with its absence the horrible uncertainty of life. In the darkness Xu slumped against the panel, her head on her arms, and cried the tears of a little girl afraid for her sister.  
  
--------------------  
  
"Didn't we leave this party earlier?" Rinoa said, breaking the silence in Squall's office. Once again they were going over documents, this time the possible contracts to be used as Field Exams. Quistis was busy. Xu didn't answer her door. She'd suggested asking Cid for his advice, a course of action Squall had immediately discarded. (Still has that stubborn pride,) Rinoa thought fondly. (Wouldn't admit he was having trouble with his job unless it was raining chocobos.)  
  
The SeeD Commander mumbled an unintelligible reply, his eyes still on the paper he held. Such intensity... Just one of the many things Rinoa loved about Squall. Everything he did was intense, in one way or another. There was definitely nothing halfway about Squall Leonhart. She hid her knowing smile behind the contract request in her hands and read it over one more time.  
  
The unnatural Lunar Cry during the Ultimecia War had left a horrid mess. While most of the raw impact force had somehow been diverted, or absorbed, by the strange machinery of Tears' Point, a sizeable portion the nigh-unfathomable tide of monsters that had crossed the arcane bridge between the Moon and Terra had spread before the reality-warping effects of Utimecia's Time Compression had cast the rest into the void. The Estharian Army had its hands full and couldn't even begin to defend every town, village and hamlet that had come under seige since the end of the War. The dusty plains of Esthar had become a new war zone, a war zone regularly penetrated by SeeD teams on relief missions. The contract request Rinoa held was yet another call for help in destroying dangerous, aggressive new monsters near a remote village. A simple "sweep and clear," as Squall called it. "What about this one?" she asked him. "Standard stuff. Cadets could handle it."  
  
"Hmm? Let me see it." He accepted the document from her and scanned it, his eyes flicking rapidly over the words. "I don't like the idea of sending cadets up against monsters we haven't even had a chance to fully study."  
  
"There are unknowns in every mission. Remember the first time we met? The train? We didn't know that Vinzer Deling wasn't really Vinzer Deling, and we managed just fine." (He doesn't want anyone to get hurt. Trying to protect everybody...) "Besides, the cadets will have SeeD observers," she continued, "and they could take care of anything that goes wrong."  
  
Rinoa watched Squall consider her words. She had a good idea what he was thinking; over time, the connection between them was deepening, and Rinoa could often tell such things with a moment's concentration. But she wished she could hear exactly what was going through his mind, every single thought that led him to feeling the way he did, choosing the courses of action he took. In the absence of such telepathy she contented herself with getting lost in his dark eyes. When he finally spoke, he said, "We've got twelve cadets ready for the Exam. Four teams should make short work of it. But I'm going to have six observers backing them up. If anything goes wrong I want that area completely cleared." Intense.  
  
"It's really open out that way. Your star cadet should do marvelously." To Squall's confused blink she explained, "Kent Brougham."  
  
"Brougham isn't the only good cadet we've got," he told her. "We've got a full dozen future SeeDs. Can't go patting Kent on the back and ignoring them." He turned his head to look at the night-dark window, the overhead lights playing beautifully in his hair. "...but you're right. If there's anywhere an archer would excel, that's it."  
  
Rinoa couldn't help but giggle girlishly. It was heartwarming to watch her fiancé, her Knight, stumble over himself in an effort to be fair to everyone but not hurt her feelings. "It'll be a big graduating class." Squall himself had been part of a graduation party of four -- himself, Selphie Tilmitt, Zell Dincht and Nida Romano. Twelve new SeeDs at once would be a record, not only in Balamb Garden, but in all of SeeD. The ceremony and ball afterward would be quite a scene. Squall set down the contract request and reclined in his chair, staring off into space. "What are you thinking?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"I'm thinking that I'd rather be out there hunting down monsters and keeping people safe than sitting in this chair and sending other people to do my dirty work." It was a good thing, Cid had once admitted to Rinoa, when the leader of SeeD would never send someone to do what he himself would not. Squall had proven himself beyond all reproach in the Ultimecia War, proven that he would gladly trade places with any SeeD, any testing cadet, no matter the mission. "I think I'm getting fat from all this sitting around."  
  
"If anybody would notice you putting on a few pounds, Squall, it would be me," she said brightly. "I like to think I'm keeping you in line."  
  
One of Squall's eyebrows arched as he lowered his head and looked at her. "Is that so?" he asked.  
  
"Everybody knows that behind any great man, there's a great woman." Her further response was cut off as the desk beeped at them. Again.  
  
"I *hate* this thing," the commander snarled. He jabbed at the panel. "Leonhart."  
  
"This is C-and-C, sir. We've got a call from the main gate. There's a man here from Dollet asking to speak to you about a contract. Says it's important."  
  
Squall muttered, "Always is." Then he said, "Have him escorted up to my office immediately."  
  
"Yes sir," the man on the other end acknowledged.  
  
Rinoa made a thoughtful noise as she wondered what this could be about. Contract requests were usually made by call, not visitation. She herself had snuck out of Timber to personally request Cid Kramer's aid in the kidnapping of Vinzer Deling, the Headmaster's old political nemesis, but that had been a very special case. On top of that, the last time Dollet had requested aid from SeeD had been during the brief Galbadian invasion of the city at the very beginning of the Ultimecia War. The mission Squall had graduated with.  
  
Altogether, it added up very strangely.  
  
"Funny that the Duke would send a messenger instead of just calling," Squall said, echoing her thoughts. "I wonder what *else* is going to happen before Monday."  
  
To that, Rinoa had no answer. This had certainly been the most eventful day in some time, as if it were trying to make up for the peace of recent months. She shrugged and began gathering up papers. Now that they had decided on a Field Exam mission, the documents could be refiled and processed as normal contracts.  
  
A minute later the doorbell chimed. "Enter," Squall called, then rose from his chair and moved around to the front of his desk. A short, wide fair-haired man with a round, fleshy face, dressed in an impeccably-fit charcoal-gray suit, was escorted in by a single beanstalk of a SeeD who towered over his charge. The lanky young man saluted crisply.  
  
"The Dollet emissary, sir."  
  
Squall sketched a return salute and dismissed the SeeD, who turned smartly on his heel and strode from the office. (Wait a minute...) Rinoa observed. (If the Duke had sent this guy, he'd be wearing a uniform, not a suit. Hundred gil says he's a lawyer. Or a mobster. Then again, is there any difference?)  
  
"Good evening," the man said in a rich, cultured voice Rinoa distrusted immediately. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."  
  
"Always have time for a prospective client," Squall replied. "What's the nature of your request?"  
  
"I represent the concerns of an... uh... influential... family in the Dukedom of Dollet. Not His Grace's family, but one with substantial connections nonetheless. Recently a matter of great sensitivity has arisen and the family would like SeeD's intervention."  
  
Rinoa could tell right away that Squall was having trouble mastering a smirk. "SeeD doesn't interfere in family squabbles, Mr...?" he prompted.  
  
"Parsons. Reginald Parsons, attorney." (Hundred gil for me,) Rinoa thought, and as if the man could hear her thinking, he turned to look at her with penetrating green eyes. "Before I continue, I would like to stress the confidental nature of this matter." (He's trying to shoo me out of the room. Of all the...)  
  
"I can assure you," Squall put in smoothly, "the lady will not threaten your... security. May I introduce Rinoa Heartilly, Sorceress."  
  
Long years of practice deserted the lawyer as his face contorted through a series of expressions in his surprise. "I... uh... am pleased to meet you, Sorceress Rinoa."  
  
"Charmed." (Slimeball.)  
  
Parsons quickly turned back to Squall, which left Rinoa feeling very pleased. "The matter in question does concern the entire family. Two days ago the middle daughter of three was kidnapped by unknown elements. Her bodyguard was also taken after making substantial resistance. We have reason to believe they are being held somewhere in Dollet, but thus far our efforts at pinpointing their location have been futile."  
  
"Isn't that a job for the police? Or elements of the Dollet Army, since the family you represent is so... uh... influential?" Squall asked, throwing the lawyer's own words back at him.  
  
"This could be a devastating blow to the family's reputation if word were to get out. A reputation that means quite a bit."  
  
"So to keep their egos from being bruised, you hopped a train and came to Balamb to hire SeeD," Squall said.  
  
Parsons frowned and rubbed his hands together. "That's a rather indelicate way of putting it."  
  
"SeeD deals in facts, Mr. Parsons, not petty politics. But since you made such an effort to get to me, I can at least hear what you're offering for our services."  
  
"I've been authorized to make an initial offer of two hundred fifty thousand gil."  
  
(A quarter million?) Rinoa boggled. (How much of that is hush money?)  
  
"That's a lot of money, Mr. Parsons," Squall said at the same time. He eased back and sat on the very edge of his desk. "Certainly with that kind of affluence you could easily find local assistance."  
  
(Yeah, get him to say what his game really is,) encouraged Rinoa.  
  
"Mr. Leonhart--"  
  
Squall interrupted and corrected him. "Commander."  
  
"--Commander Leonhart, please understand. The family's reputation is at stake. Hiring local soldiers-of-fortune is inherently risky because of the complete lack of assurance of their competence *and* ability to keep their mouths shut."  
  
"So why Balamb Garden? Wouldn't it have been easier to contact Galbadia Garden?" One of Squall's feet swung, as if he hadn't a care in the world. It was all Rinoa could do to not laugh at his masterful insolence.  
  
"Because," the lawyer explained, his patience straining, "you, the top SeeD Commander, are here."  
  
"The SeeD Commander and Headmaster of Galbadia Garden are both perfectly capable of making this kind of decision. Let's cut to the chase, Mr. Parsons. I know you're hiding something, and until you tell me what it is, I will not even consider your request. And please remember that my time, while freely given to you for this interview, is very valuable."  
  
(Gotcha.) Rinoa watched Parsons lick his thick lips and rub his hands together once more. (Best way to deal with a lawyer is to force him to own up.)  
  
"All right. All right. We have reason to believe that the family and all its retainers are being watched. I have... uh... methods... But in order to ensure that I was not picked up again, I had to come to Balamb, and not Galbadia."  
  
Squall got to his feet again. "Well, now, this *is* a problem, isn't it. Just how do you know that the prisoners are being held in Dollet, and how do you know you were being watched?"  
  
"You can't expect a man to show you all his cards, Commander," the lawyer protested. "I've given you all the information I have. Will you accept the contract?"  
  
"Will I send a team into that Torama's den? Not for two hundred fifty thousand gil." Squall paused, letting Parsons finish turning pale before saying, "Four hundred thousand."  
  
"That-- That's robbery!" the corpulent man squeaked. "Three hundred."  
  
"Three twenty-five. And the family's name."  
  
Rinoa wondered if the attorney was about to have a heart attack right there in the office. Parsons spluttered a few times, then managed, "Three fifty."  
  
Squall shook his head. "I want to know who I'm dealing with. I want their name, or the interview is over."  
  
Parsons closed his eyes, his head dropping in defeat. "Very well. Three hundred twenty-five thousand gil. The name of the family I represent is Tyrell."  
  
"Then I believe we have a deal." Squall offered his hand, which the lawyer shook as briefly as he could. Squall walked around his desk and began dictating the form of the contract. When that was finished Parsons read over the terms on the panel and signed his name with a seldom-used electronic pen Squall kept on hand.  
  
"I trust you will attend to this immediately," the lawyer said when he straightened.  
  
Squall smiled. "It will take some time to assemble the team. They'll be dispatched early tomorrow morning. Expect them at the Tyrell estate before noon."  
  
Parsons looked like he was about to protest, but Squall's smile never faltered. (Can't ooze out of that corner, you sleaze,) Rinoa gloated.  
  
"Very well," the lawyer said. "Tomorrow, then. Thank you, Commander, Sorceress." Parsons bowed a fraction and hustled out of the room.  
  
"Have a good evening," Squall said to the closing doors, then looked to his fiancée. "What do you make of that?"  
  
"I make it that you're a pirate. Three hundred twenty-five thousand gil?" She wasn't anything resembling angry, but Squall's dickering over money, especially that much money, surprised her.  
  
"The money's irrelevant," he explained. "I just wanted to squeeze the name out of him. Shooting high and then coming down was the best way to make it look like a bargain." Rinoa's mouth opened, then closed again. What could she say to that? Squall laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "You can blame Irvine for that one."  
  
"I'd rather be doing something else," she said, and she did.  
  
After a minute he pulled away from her a few inches and said, "If you liked that, you'll love what else I have up my sleeve."  
  
"Oh, do tell." (Isn't the Sorceress supposed to be the devious one?)  
  
"I don't like the way Parsons seems to regard SeeD as his personal errand service. So I'm going to use this to my full advantage. Three of those cadets we've got ready for the Field Exam would do even better at this sort of thing than they would bashing monsters, and three teams should handle the sweep just fine, if not quite as fast as four. And the sweep will only need four observers."  
  
Rinoa gasped. "You're going to use this as an Exam?"  
  
"Yes. And I can think of two perfect observers to go along with them."  
  
"You," she said in amazement that was somewhere between shock and awe, "are evil."  
  
"No, just annoyed with the guy, and opportunistic on top of it."  
  
"...whatever," she laughed, echoing the catchphrase of Squall's history, and kissed him again. 


	5. Part Five

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART FIVE  
  
  
For some reason Xu couldn't fathom, Balamb Garden had been constructed with two small exterior observation decks on the second level of the main structure, one on each flank. The deck on the eastern side lay directly off one of the convention halls which lined that portion of the ring. To the west, the deck on which Xu now stood was accessed through an unassuming door in the classroom hall.  
  
This observation deck had seen a lot of historical events. When the Garden had crashed into the side of Fisherman's Horizon at the end of its legendary first flight, this had been the gate to that remarkable shantytown. From here the White SeeDs had taken Ellone. Here was the last time she had ever seen Raven Argent.  
  
(Why am I thinking of him at a time like this?) she wondered as she gazed out over the night-blackened forests to the west of Balamb Garden. (As if I don't have enough to worry about...) Perhaps her subconscious had finally exhausted itself over Fujin. Xu didn't think she had a single tear left. (So why him?)  
  
That final conversation came to her mind unbidden. She'd come upon Raven standing here much like she was now. For several minutes he hadn't spoken, and though Xu was not normally wont to intrude upon another's thoughts, she'd finally asked him why he was leaving when SeeD needed him the most. She remembered the look of weariness on his face when he turned to look at her, like all the troubles in his life had chosen that precise moment to crash down on him. (I probably look the same right now.) He couldn't fulfill his duties, Raven had told her, there was just too much pain. He'd paused, like he was unsure if he should continue, leave or fling himself from the observation deck, an then told her quite unexpectedly that in the battle against Galbadia Garden, he'd killed a fellow SeeD.  
  
Xu was never able to accurately recall anything of the conversation after that. She remembered that Raven had described the event in detail, but something in her mind blocked her from ever recalling precisely what he'd said. Something about going berserk, as if under the effects of a skill Ifrit was known to teach to its long-time Junctioned companions... (But Ifrit had never been his Guardian Force. He'd been Junctioned to Quetzacoatl for years, and then he found that... What did he call it? Morrigan?) The odd stone he'd worn around his neck had been black, but reflected a rainbow like oil on pavement. Maybe this Morrigan had given him that same battle-rage. There was just no way to be sure; no one had ever heard of a Guardian Force by that name.  
  
Perhaps, had it not been for the pain he felt over Quistis and a multitude of other things that he'd never explained, Raven might have stayed. Accidents happened, even terrible ones. The Garden had excellent counselors and, given Raven's exemplary record as a SeeD and an Instructor and his reputation as a good man, there was no reason to believe anyone would ever have blamed him for the death. But the incident was just the final straw that broke the chocobo's back, as the Galbadian expression went. Raven had bid her farewell and left some time that night, never to be seen or heard from again.  
  
At first Xu had been angry. Quistis had walked around in a daze after hearing the news that her closest friend had abandoned her. Xu had even railed at Cid, her explosion of outrage making the Headmaster flinch. How could he have accepted Raven's resignation in the middle of a war? How could he have let the man steal away in the middle of the night, leaving everyone who cared about Raven to stare at the gaping hole that was left behind? Did the Headmaster even care about the impact?  
  
That outburst had left Xu with a further shock -- until then, she hadn't realized that her anger was covering a sense of personal betrayal. In the time she'd known Raven Argent, she'd come to regard the weapon Instructor very highly and count on his presence. In her personal concern for Quistis and professional concern for SeeD, Xu had completely missed the fact that... she cared.  
  
It had taken a long time for the anger and hurt to fade, mostly because the shock had left Quistis in a shambles but partly because Raven had been one of the few xiong-jin Xu had thought would give the Lin Ren elders pause. Now, it all just seemed a terrible shame; a good man had been broken. Quistis had recovered relatively quickly, mostly due to the new friendships she had forged during the War. Still, sometimes, Xu wondered what had become of the man she had once called friend. Times like this.  
  
Behind Xu, the door opened, as she knew it eventually would. She drew in a calming breath and turned to apologize to Quistis--  
  
--and came face-to-face with Raijin.  
  
Xu had never had much contact with the large bronze-skinned man, but she knew he was Fujin's best friend, a friend so close that her sister considered Raijin to be family. She felt no animosity toward Raijin; that she saved for Seifer Almasy. "Hello," she said softly.  
  
"Hi... Didn't mean to interrupt ya, sorry." Raijin turned to go, then stopped at Xu's gentle protest.  
  
"You're not interrupting. I could use the company," admitted Xu. "Please, join me." He looked at her uncertainly, then shuffled out onto the observation deck and over to the railing. "Are you holding up okay?" she asked him.  
  
"Yeah," he replied. "The Doc's doin' her best. It'll be all right."  
  
Xu nodded her agreement, but was certain he wasn't completely reassured. Spirits knew she wasn't. "How was your day in the Garden?"  
  
"Better than I thought it would be. Thought people would be poundin' on me soon as I showed up, ya know? Made some new friends. Think I managed to clear the air with Quistis Trepe. Squall says he's lettin' me back into SeeD. Pretty good day, ya know?"  
  
(Letting him back into SeeD? Does that mean...) "What did Squall say about Fujin?"  
  
Raijin shrugged a fraction. "Don't see no reason he wouldn't let her back in too. He didn't say anythin' otherwise."  
  
"That's..." (Wonderful? Amazing? A load of Malboro tentacles?) "...very good to hear. So you're settled in, then?" she asked.  
  
He nodded once. "Yeah. Got my own room. Squall said he's gonna give me a job pretty soon." After a short pause, Raijin looked over at Xu and inquired, "How're you doin'?"  
  
(What should I tell him?) she wondered. (Should I just tell the truth? Or should I act strong so he won't worry?) It was a difficult choice. "I'm doing as well as can be expected. I know how close you and Fujin are, so I think you can probably understand what I'm feeling right now."  
  
"Yeah. Oh, hell yeah. Makes ya feel like you're gonna go outta your head, don't it."  
  
Xu decided that moment that she would definitely have to get to know this man better. He was obviously insightful, and Fujin had to have seen something worthwhile in him. "It does indeed."  
  
"What were you thinkin' about?" he asked, as if to change the subject to something less painful.  
  
Xu leaned against the railing once more as she replied. "Someone I... used to know. A friend." Raijin didn't press for more information, and they shared silence for a time. Then, out of curiosity, Xu wondered, "Did you ever meet Raven Argent? He was a SeeD here before the War."  
  
"Name sounds familiar..." said Raijin. "Oh, yeah, he was one of Seifer's trainers, I think. Never met the guy myself."  
  
Something was biting into the palm of Xu's left hand. She looked down to discover that the hand had clenched into a tight fist out of pure reflex to hearing Seifer's name, and her nails were digging into her own flesh. She took several measured breaths and opened the hand. (What would your sifu say if they saw you acting so thoughtlessly?) she asked herself. (Have you spent too much time among the xiong-jin? Are you becoming one of them?) "I didn't know him very well," she spoke aloud. "He was much closer to Quistis. I don't know why I was thinking about him."  
  
"I guess it's good to think about friends when things get tough. Helps ya get along, ya know?" The large man turned his head to look at Xu. "Hey, um... can I ask you somethin'?"  
  
"Certainly," she replied.  
  
"You're not... uh... mad at me, are ya?"  
  
"Angry with you?" asked Xu. "Whatever for?"  
  
Raijin rubbed his chin nervously as he explained, "For the stuff that went down before. Fujin leavin' the Garden with me and Seifer, ya know, all that mess."  
  
"Of course not." Xu shook her head firmly. "You didn't take Fujin away from Balamb Garden. Seifer did."  
  
"What do ya mean?"  
  
"She cared about him like she cares about you, and Seifer abused that trust, deceived her and led her down a path of self-destruction--"  
  
"Dammit," Raijin interrupted, his voice full of frustration. "It's like none of ya ever knew Seifer at all. You all make him out to be some kinda devil, ya know? And he wasn't like that. He had big dreams, wanted to make somethin' of himself. People kept pullin' him down. He got upset, ya know? You remember what you said to him after the Dollet mission against Galbadia? I remember. It hurt him really bad." Xu was taken aback by the conviction that the powerful man displayed of Seifer Almasy's inherent goodness. She did indeed remember what she'd said that day, and she still believed it. Seifer would never make it as a SeeD. "Kick somebody enough and he'll kick back."  
  
Incredulous, she fired back, "So you're saying we're to blame for him deserting SeeD and becoming Knight to the Sorceress who tried to conquer the entire world? For being a bully and a braggart, for being completely unable to follow orders? You're saying we made him a bloodthirsty traitor who would destroy millions of lives to satisfy his own craving for glory?" When Raijin didn't respond she added, "Seifer was a troublemaker from the time he arrived. You're right, I don't know much about him, but what I do know tells me very clearly that he is not someone I would turn my back on. Ever. No, Raijin, I'm not angry with you, because I can see my sister was right about you. You're a good man who got in a bad situation, and I believe you didn't know the full scope of what you were doing. Seifer walked into that situation with his eyes wide open and he dragged Fujin along for the ride."  
  
Raijin protested, "We didn't have to go with him."  
  
"Sometimes when the people we call family do bad things, we don't act logically," said Xu. "That includes turning our backs and following those people into danger. Not once did I ever condemn Fujin for following Seifer, because I knew how important he was to her. He..." She stopped, horrified by the words that waited on her tongue to be released. Was it true? Looking back, it had to be. "He was more family to her than I was. I was so wrapped up in being a SeeD that I... I left her to make her own way." (Spirits protect me from my own folly. Is this all my fault?) "We used to be inseperable, Raijin. She must have needed something to fill the hole. You and Seifer were it."  
  
"Fu was proud of you," Raijin told her gently. "You were her hero, ya know? She never thought you abandoned her. She tried so hard to be like you."  
  
"I..." Xu couldn't form words. (What does that mean? Is it my fault? Am I blaming Seifer to transfer my own guilt?) She turned her gaze heavenward to search the stars for an answer, but they were hidden by the brilliance of the glowing ring hovering over Balamb Garden.  
  
Raijin turned around and propped his elbows on the railing. "We were a posse, yeah. I guess you got it right, about family. I guess you're right about Seifer bein' a troublemaker, too. But can ya try to maybe remember that nobody's perfect?"  
  
"This goes beyond being imperfect," Xu said flatly. "But I see your point. I ask only one thing."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
She told him, "If I try to see some good in Seifer Almasy, to consider that I am blinded to some spark of decency in him because of my anger, to even begin to think about forgiving him for nearly ruining Fujin's life, then I ask that you consider that perhaps you are blinded to the darkness in his soul because of your friendship."  
  
Raijin was silent for some time, considering this. Xu studied his face, trying to gauge his internal struggle. She didn't want to alienate the man, not now. But there was no way she was going to buy Raijin's tale about Seifer without doing her best to lift the veil she saw over the large man's eyes in return.  
  
"Okay," he said finally. "I guess I can do that."  
  
"Thank you," Xu replied. "I promise I will try. If we're going to be friends, I need to accept that Seifer was as big a part of your life as he was of Fujin's." Raijin looked at her and blinked a few times; he obviously hadn't been expecting that. "I'm going to go to the Infirmary. I know it's late, but I think Dr. Kadowaki will understand. Do you want to come with me?"  
  
"I was just there," Raijin told her. "I think I'm gonna go get some sleep. Been a long day, ya know?"  
  
Xu nodded her agreement. That, indeed, it had been. "Sleep well, Raijin."  
  
"G'night." He pushed off the railing and made his way back into the Garden. Xu looked up at the light-blanked night sky and whispered a short prayer to the spirts of nature and her ancestors, asking them for guidance. She felt a little better for having talked with Raijin, but much was still uncertain. Putting Raven Argent and Seifer Almasy firmly out of her mind, she left the observation deck. It had been a long day, and there was a long night ahead. 


	6. Part Six

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART SIX  
  
  
Without being able to see the movement of the stars and the moon in the velvet dark sky outside the window, Quistis had no way of judging the passage of time. Thirty short minutes on the clock stretched into an eternity in the secret places of her mind as she sat behind Dr. Kadowaki's desk, waiting.  
  
The good news was that Anson Benedict had finally called from Esthar. Kadowaki's instincts had proven themselves again. With the ultra-sensitive equipment at Hyne's Grace, Benedict had detected UPM fluctuations two orders of magnitude lower than the instruments at Balamb Garden could perceive. Millionths of a percent. How anything could survive at that level was completely beyond anyone's knowledge. It did mean, though, that Fujin was indeed still alive, and was holding steady in some near-death state.  
  
The bad news was that no one was sure what to make of the information. The intruder, whatever it was -- Dia had taken to calling it a virus -- was absorbing Fujin's inherent paramagical energy as fast as she could produce it, but was somehow managing to keep her alive at a UPM level nothing should be able to tolerate. The obvious course of action was to give Fujin regular transfusions of UPM-rich solution in order to bring her out of her coma, but at what levels? Would it make the virus stronger? Would attempting to wake Fujin even be worth the risk, since she might not be able to tell them more than Raijin already had?  
  
Quistis rubbed her eyes and reached for the cup of hot tea she had kept full and at hand for... how long was it now? She looked at the clock. (One thirty-six...) Too long. (I'm starting to get caffeine jitters.) She looked over at one of the darkened cubicles, where Xu lay sleeping on the bed. (I can't even begin to imagine what this is like for her. Getting her sister back after so much, but only because she's so close to death... Dear Hyne, I'm going to make myself cry.) Quistis stood and stretched, then strode down to Fujin's isolated room. She didn't even bother looking at the instruments; she knew there would be no change.  
  
Something kept nagging at her, an inescapeable urge. This virus, this intruder, was obviously new, not like a cold or flu. That meant it must have had one of three origins -- mutation, biological engineering, or xenobiological -- alien. If it had mutated from an existing virus, its attack wouldn't be so well-executed, so evolved. That left engineering and alien origin. There was the case of that Galbadian scientist manipulating the genetic codes of local monsters several years ago, but nothing in the records SeeD had captured had mentioned anything about virii. Someone else could have continued the work in Galbadia and used Fujin for a test subject, but that was more complicated than it needed to be. The simplest and therefore most likely answer was that the virus was Lunar in origin.  
  
Of course, once again Quistis had no idea what to do with the information. So what if the virus was Lunar? Without more data there wasn't much anyone could do. If it were discovered that the virus was infecting wildlife, especially the new monster species brought across in the last Lunar Cry, then perhaps a cure could be traced somehow. The blonde Instructor had already contacted Squall. The Commander had been silent for a moment, then thanked her suddenly and closed the link, obviously setting a plan in motion. Of course, any new data could be days in coming, and that wouldn't help Fujin one bit.  
  
None of this was the true source of the continuing tug on Quistis's psyche, though. No, that was something so farfetched she didn't even want to waste time thinking about it... but she couldn't get away from it. What if there were some way to communicate with the intruder? Just because it seemed to behave like a terrestrial virus didn't mean that it behaved *exactly* like a terrestrial virus. What if it had some kind of collective intellect? Could it be reasoned with? Could they reach an accord with it, perhaps even... befriend it?  
  
(Stupid speculation, you ought to know better,) Quistis cursed herself roundly. (You're a professional. You know that in times of great stress the mind will offer all sorts of wild notions to find even a faint hope. Focus on reality and find a cure.) Approaching footsteps made her turn from her blank contemplation of the comatose albino. Dia was approaching with a prepared IV bag. "What's the solution?" she asked.  
  
Kadowaki's assistant grimmaced at the bag. "Seventy percent. If this doesn't work we'll try one hundred. If that doesn't work, well, nobody's ever manged to supersaturate a UPM solution, but there's a first time for everything..."  
  
Quistis made a noncommittal noise and turned back to the window. Even with all her expertise she was as completely lost as the doctor and her assistant. (Someday people might remember us as pioneers and heroes, when all we really are is a bunch of desperate people fumbling in the dark. Amazing how history works.) Beside her, Dia unlocked the cubicle and stepped inside, locking the door again behind her.  
  
Dr. Kadowaki's warm presence materialized at the window next to Quistis. "I don't like this," the matronly physician said, "I don't like it at all. We tested the high-concentration solutions on the blood samples we had and the results were the same, just slower. All the paramagical energy was absorbed."  
  
"Did the rate of absorption increase at all?" Quistis asked. If infusing Fujin's blood with the strong UPM solutions made the virus multiply, the energy would drain faster.  
  
The doctor shook her head and a small smile appeared on her lips. "No. One small mercy. As far as we could tell, the virus did not strengthen or multiply."  
  
Inside the room, Dia hung the IV bag from the stand next to the bed and flushed the transfer tube of air bubbles. She inserted the tube into a small valve that they had placed in Fujin's arm and, after turning to get Kadowaki's final nodded approval, began the transfusion.  
  
--------------------  
  
The fluid level in the bag drained slower than the eye could actually see, but Dia watched it anyway. Anything to avoid looking at Fujin. Every time she looked at the albino, Siren began clamoring for attention in her mind. This was something humans would have to handle, something they would have to learn from, not something to just be tossed to a Guardian Force to fix. The more Siren insisted that Dia consult her, the more the doctor's assistant ignored the GF. Truth be told, she was about to just take the damn stone from around her neck and lock it in a safe.  
  
Dia knew this was only hurting her relationship with the GF, which would be a detriment to any future cooperation between human and spirit avatar. Dia knew that many SeeDs related to their Guardian Forces on a personal level, treating the spirits as true friends, more than just battle allies. It seemed strange to Dia, like a kind of silent admission that SeeDs had trouble making normal friends. She didn't really want anything to do with it. Her relationship with Siren was professional, an alliance of skills to further each other's aims, coworkers and nothing more. Humans were trouble enough, who knew what the alien intelligence of a Guardian Force would demand from one moment to the next for its friendship?  
  
Despite her effots, though, her eyes drifted back to the porcelain skin and silvery hair of the cycloptic woman sleeping on the bed. Just as before, Dia's mind was full of Siren's insistance, but this time the Guardian Force wasn't taking no for an answer. Dia nearly stumbled from the force of the GF's demand for contact and knew that she wouldn't be able to shut Siren out any longer. Opening herself to the contact, Dia turned her mind's eye inward.  
  
Before the darkness of her subconscious could even lift to display the familiar tableau of a rocky shoreline, Siren perched with her harp upon a wave-washed outcropping and bathed in golden light, Dia demanded, her patience snapping, "What in Hyne's name do you want, you feathered nuisance?"  
  
The Guardian Force's winged head drew back, her eyes wide in shock. "Who are you to speak to me with such an insolent tone?" Siren demanded, her lips never moving. The silent voice.  
  
"I'm the healer you've been insolent enough to keep distracting and interrupting. By rights I should have just taken your stone off and gone about my business. Don't give me that crap," Dia spat back, her anger continuing to rise. "Now what do you want?"  
  
Siren's hands stroked the gilded frame of her harp for a moment in obvious consternation. Then, finally, she said, her unvoiced words quiet over the rushing of the waves, "Forgive me. This situation is hard on us all."  
  
"I assume you mean that it's hard on you as a healer as well, then."  
  
The Guardian Force nodded, the elegant rainbowed wings fluttering slightly with the motion. "Aye... but also in my heart."  
  
This gave Dia pause. Fujin's GF was Pandemona, the Wind Lord. Her name even meant "noble lady of the wind" in the language of the Lin Ren. Some believed that Pandemona had chosen Fujin before she had even been born. So why would Siren be so torn up? "I don't understand."  
  
Siren's fingers touched the strings of her harp, evoking a plaintive chord. "Her voice is nearly silent. She is a kindred spirit, dear to me though she is not mine. I would fight this battle with her."  
  
(Just one more example of how weird GFs can be,) Dia thought before realizing an instant later that thought was the same as speech in this inner realm. Siren apparently ignored the offhanded comment. "So basically," said Dia, "you want me to let you try to treat her, even though we don't know anything about what's happening."  
  
"Which is more important, your knowledge or her life?"  
  
(Ouch. Checkmate.) "You're right," Dia admitted. The only life she had a right to risk for knowledge was her own. "Okay. Let's cut a deal. We'll wait for the UPM solution transfusion to finish and see what happens, and then you can do your thing."  
  
"That is agreeable," the Guardian Force said with another gentle nod. She evoked another chord from her harp, this one bright and hopeful. "We wait."  
  
Dia's senses snapped back to reality abruptly. She blinked away her confusion and looked back at the solution bag, which was nearly empty. Time spent with a Guardian Force did that -- sometimes an hour in the inner realm could be seconds in the real world, sometimes the reverse. She didn't care for the unpredictable subjectivity. She felt Siren's presence now, hovering within and around her, almost anxious. Dia restrained herself from sighing in exasperation.  
  
Minutes crawled by. Quistis and Dr. Kadowaki were still watching from outside. At last, it was done. Dia removed the transfer tube from the valve in Fujin's arm and checked the clock, beginning a count. Shortly Dia would draw more blood, which she would give to the doctor to take to the lab for observation while Dia continued to observe Fujin directly. The advance of each second seemed to take a monumental effort from the world. Or perhaps it was just the effort Dia was having to put into remembering to breathe.  
  
"Time," she said to herself when the clock at long last swept out the final second of the wait. Dia began to methodically extract the precious crimson substance of life from Fujin's body, the relief of being free to act making her motions sure and precise. She drew three vials of blood and passed them out to the doctor. Now came yet more waiting.  
  
"Seems like ninety-five percent of everything we do is waiting," Dia muttered to herself as she dropped onto the stool at Fujin's bedside. She fixed her pale eyes on the readouts and finally allowed herself that sigh.  
  
A few minutes later, the numbers fluctuated. Pulse, respiration, everything flickered upward in an instant of astonishing hope. Then the numbers crashed back down to settle where they had been the entire evening, no sign of their brief attempt to rise remaining.  
  
"Dammit! Damn it all!" (Do it,) Dia hissed to Siren. The Guardian Force's essence flared within her...  
  
--------------------  
  
The sound of Dia's curse filtering through the window made Quistis spin from where she stood, reclining against the wall. She pressed against the glass, tapping her palm on its transparent surface. "Dia? What's wrong?" In a horrible realization she saw the beginning of a familiar sight, the manifestation of a Guardian Force's avatar. Traces of gold light outlined the phantom, the lush body of a nearly-naked woman, strange thin wings emerging from her temples and a harp in her grasp. "What are you *doing*?" Quistis shrieked in her astonishment. "No! Dia!"  
  
The manifestation was too far along, there was no turning back. In desperation Quistis jabbed at the wall panel, trying to open the door she knew to be locked. Inside the room, Siren's avatar plucked the strings of her harp, the sound making the wall hum in sympathetic vibration. Somewhere deep inside Quistis recognized the sound. Selphie Tilmitt had briefly Junctioned to Siren during the Ultimecia War and through her Siren had been able to treat poisons and paramagical ailments. That was the sound. But why was Siren *herself* here? Triggering the comm, Quistis shouted, "*Doctor*!"  
  
Kadowaki let loose with a startled oath and something crashed in the lab. Quistis watched helplessly as Siren reached out to touch Fujin... and her hand began to vanish. An unnatural keening burst from the avatar and shattered the window, spraying razor-edged shards across Quistis as she raised her arm and turned in reflex, tearing her uniform and slashing skin. Siren vanished, and Dia crumpled to the floor of the room. On instinct Quistis searched within herself for the energy of a simple healing spell, sealing the welling cuts.  
  
Kadowaki burst from the decontamination chamber and charged full-tilt down the corridor. The doctor collided with Quistis in her haste and fumbled at the wall panel, the first time the Instructor had ever seen her lose her calm demeanor. The door hissed aside and both women tumbled into the room. Fujin and Dia both lay unmoving. A deathly silence had settled over the scene.  
  
The doctor knelt quickly at Dia's side, checking her assitant's pulse and breathing. Trickles of blood had streamed from Dia's eyes, nose and ears, but they were stopped now. "She's alive," Kadowaki said when she completed her examination. "Get her to a bed."  
  
Quistis nodded mutely and, in an action she had not made since the end of the War, shifted the quanta of paramagic within herself, Junctioning the spells to her physical strength. She lifted Dia easily from the floor and carried the unconscious assistant from the room, taking her to the one adjacent and laying her gently on the bed. Reaching inside, Quistis tapped a curing spell and focused its energy on Dia. She didn't know what other damage there might have been, but that would stabilize it for the time being. When Quistis returned to Fujin's room, the doctor was standing, staring at where the window had been.  
  
"What happened?" Kadowaki demanded. Her voice was shaking.  
  
"She..." Quistis swallowed past a sudden constriction in her throat. "She summoned Siren. I don't know why." She stopped, not knowing what to say. At Kadowaki's nod, she continued, "The GF reached out to Fujin and suddenly started to vanish, starting with the hand she had near Fujin. She screamed and disappeared. The sound... That's what broke the window."  
  
"That would explain Dia."  
  
Quistis nodded. "I used a Cure on her," she said simply.  
  
The doctor drew a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm herself. "I'm afraid I have to deputize you for the time being. Get Fujin moved to another room, then inform C-and-C. They'll send a security team, naturally, but that can't be helped. I'll examine Dia... and then I've got to clean up the lab."  
  
"I'm sorry," Quistis offered, but Kadowaki cut off her apology.  
  
"Don't worry about it. It's just some containers and water. I--" Kadowaki stopped, looking over the Instructor's shoulder. Quistis turned to see Xu staring through the gaping hole in the wall, her eyes wide.  
  
(I completely forgot she was still here.) "It's okay, Xu. We've got it under control."  
  
Fujin's sister waved her hand through the space where the glass had been, then looked down at the shattered mess on the floor. "If you say so."  
  
Quistis felt her teeth grinding together. Instead of getting better, this was only getting worse. "Come on, you can help me." She could have lifted Fujin easily by herself, since she still had her paramagic Junctioned to her strength, but she knew that being able to touch her sister would be theraputic for Xu. Together they lifted the comatose albino and carried her through the door and into another room. Isolation procedures were useless now; if the virus could spread by contact they were already all infected anyway. The Instructor left Xu with Fujin and went to inform Command-and-Control of the incident.  
  
(What a night,) she sighed to herself. 


	7. Part Seven

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART SEVEN  
  
  
A thick blanket of mist had risen from the Alcauld Plains in the darkest hours of the night, muting the blazing pink and orange of dawn into a subtle wash. The romantic within Irvine Kinneas couldn't think of a more beautiful time of day. The pragmatist within Irvine Kinneas complained that it should be illegal to have to be up at this hour. He stood on the broad flagstones of the southern exterior courtyard, just outside the main entrance to Balamb Garden, wreathed in that early morning fog and waiting for the rest of his team to arrive.  
  
(Gettin' soft, cowboy,) he chided himself. Stifling a yawn, he mentally reviewed the mission he had been given in the middle of the night. He and one other -- unspecified -- SeeD would observe three graduate candidates as they worked to recover the kidnapped daughter of a wealthy Dollet family. Miracle of miracles, one of the three cadets was his own protegé, Lydia Moraine. When Irvine had first observed the cadet on the firing range, he immediately had felt he'd discovered a rough diamond. With care and precision he had cut and polished that jewel into a shining work of art. Lydia had proven a capable and diligent student, and now it was time to put his work with her to the test. (She'll prob'ly try to impress me,) Irvine thought ruefully. There were times when being handsome and charming were a real pain in the neck.  
  
Irvine laughed, the sound as muted as the slowly growing colors of the dawn. Since the war he'd done his best to get over himself; the swagger just hadn't worked as intended. Still, so many people had commented on his looks over the years that he had to believe there was something to it. Oddly, his "mutation", as Selphie had put it, had been the thing that put a gap between himself and the diminutive dynamo. She didn't know who he was anymore, she claimed, and it was creeping her out. As if shrugging off an unwanted cloak, Irvine rolled his shoulders. (Past is past. We prob'ly woulda killed each other anyway.)  
  
He drew a deep breath of the chilled, moist air to clear his head. The second cadet on the team was a swordswoman named Irene Forrester. There was nothing wrong with Irene's sword work, but she was notoriously fond of handling every problem by summoning her Guardian Force, Shiva. This mission would force her to restrain that impulse. (Leave it to Squall,) the sharpshooter thought with another chuckle, (to just throw the girl in the pool and tell her to swim.)  
  
The final cadet was a young man rumored to be Forrester's boyfriend, a short-blade fighter named Alan Halverstadt. Halverstadt's attack-focused, whirlwind-like fighting style, utilizing twin wakizashi, was full of holes a careful and patient enemy could exploit. That impetuous nature coupled with Irene getting in danger could spell trouble. Irvine would have to have a talk with the young man on the way to Dollet. This mission called for stealth, patience and uncanny timing, not a blasting assault. (Figures the boy'd have Pandemona for a GF.)  
  
He could handle the cadets just fine, Irvine told himself optimistically. He'd trained Lydia himself and he had faith in his fellow Instructors' work with Irene and Alan. No cadet got far without learning to put professionalism first, with perhaps a good swift kick in the pants from a superior. No, the real problem would be his partner in observation. There was only one reason he wouldn't have been told who it was -- so he couldn't object until it was too late. "Aw, dammit," he muttered as he reached an inevitable conclusion. "Selphie ain't cut out for a mission like this. The hell they thinkin'?"  
  
There wasn't any bad blood between the sharpshooter cowboy and the irresistable force of good cheer. At least, not from his end of things. Irvine still cared about Selphie as a very dear friend, almost a sister. That was the point -- he knew Selphie well enough to know this wasn't her kind of mission. Somebody was trying to be clever, he decided, and it wasn't funny. He adjusted his trademark Stetson and rolled his shoulders again. (Did I piss somebody off?) he wondered.  
  
Almost as if someone was listening and had decided to answer, steady footfalls approached out of the mist. (Too heavy to be Selphie,) he reasoned. (Halverstadt, maybe.) "Ho, g'mornin'," he called out. "Get some breakfast?"  
  
The voice that came back to him was most definitely not Alan Halverstadt's clipped, rapid Trabian rattle. The lyrical flow belonged to only one region on the planet, and there was only one man with that particular timbre that Irvine had ever met. "Yeah, figured I'd get there nice and early, ya know?"  
  
(Desert sun burn my eyes,) Irvine cursed roundly, (what the hell is *he* doin' here?) "Long time no see, Raijin."  
  
The big man's shape solidified out of the fog and he stopped, leaning slightly on a heavy pugil-stick he held in one massive fist, one end on the flagstones. He was dressed in a SeeD uniform, pants tucked into black boots and bloused out, short-sleeved jacket open over bared muscular chest.  
  
(Aw, hell, I'm gonna hafta put Squall out of his misery when I get back. He musta fried his brain!)  
  
"Yeah," Raijin replied finally. "You here for the Dollet mission?"  
  
Irvine nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Raijin from under the brim of his hat. "That's right. Not to be offensive or nothin', but would you mind explainin' to me what's goin' on here?" He listened carefully as Raijin told the story of his return from Galbadia with Fujin, and his reinstatement into SeeD.  
  
"This is kinda a test for me, ya know?" Raijin concluded. "So I'm not gonna screw it up."  
  
(You damn well better not,) Irvine allowed himself in his own head. Aloud he drawled, "Ooookay." It was too late to fight... and, he had to admit, he was curious. Irvine Kinneas had never been one to shy from a gamble, and life had just challenged him to a match. (Might as well play it and see what happens. I've had worse odds.) "You won't get any hassle from me. If you don't mind me askin', though... Do you know what you're doin'?"  
  
"I got the mission profile last night, same as you. You an' me are gonna hang back as support, unless the cadets screw somethin' up. Didn't tell me nothin' about the cadets, though."  
  
(Okay, then,) Irvine thought, (I'm obviously in charge here.) "That's about the size of it. And I figure you know how to handle yourself since you had a command in the War. I don't think we'll have too much trouble in Dollet." He was silent for a moment, thinking. Something wasn't -- oh. "'Course, you might not wanna run around in a SeeD uniform, that could give us away."  
  
Raijin looked down at himself and sighed. "This is all I got. Got a temporary SeeD pay grade of eight, though, and two months' back pay in an account. I figure I'll buy some new stuff first thing when we get there. I'd get it in Balamb but it's a little too early for shops to be open, ya know?"  
  
(Damn. It'll be a risk, getting him into a shop... Oh well. Nothing to do about it now.) Irvine couldn't think of anything else to add, so he remained silent, listening to the faint chirping of morning birds. It wasn't long until more footsteps approached, a trio if his guess wasn't off. Sure enough, Cadets Halverstadt, Forrester and Moraine, all dressed in casual clothing and carrying dark gray hardcases stripped of any identifying symbols, approached and saluted in unison. Irvine returned the gesture and adjusted his hat. "Y'all ready?"  
  
"Ready as can be, sir," Lydia said with a mischievous grin.  
  
Irvine suppressed a groan and nodded. "Cadets, this is SeeD LaFleur," he informed the trio, hoping to Hyne he remembered Raijin's real name correctly. "These three lucky ducks are Lydia Forrester," he told Raijin, pointing to the grinning brunette, "Irene Forrester," he continued with a nod to the blue-eyed blonde in the center, "and Alan Halverstadt," he finished with a wave in the direction of the brown-eyed young man on the other end. "Let's not stand around jawin', we got us a boat to catch."  
  
A SeeD truck was waiting on the road outside the south gate. The cadets piled in without a care in the world, all three of them excited about the mission. Irvine wasn't sure if this was good or bad. Yes, it helped that they weren't afraid, but he would have been happier if they displayed a bit more caution. Sometimes apprehension was a good thing. Raijin, in contrast, was completely silent. It was obvious there was a lot on his mind. (He'll have to put it aside,) Irvine mused. (That's just how it goes.)  
  
At the Balamb docks they boarded a small civilian transport for the passage across the ocean to Dollet. Lydia had finally managed to engage Raijin in conversation and Irene dozed off in her seat. Now was as good a time as any for that little chat. "Hey, Alan," he said to get the cadet's attention. "Come topside with me, I gotta ask ya somethin'." He led the way out of the cabin and took a deep breath of the salt air, a sharp, tangy contrast to the atmosphere around the Garden. He could handle this. No problem.  
  
--------------------  
  
The thinning mist allowed the sun to paint the beginnings of a blazing sheen on the crimson hull of the Ragnarok. (Nothing like natural melodrama to add to a Field Exam send-off,) Squall joked to himself. Assembling before him on the tarmac were the three cadet squads and four SeeD observers tapped to execute this mission. Of their own accord, perhaps in their own sense of adding to the formality of the event, the SeeDs stood interspersed with the cadet squads. Jake Cosby, Latitia Farelle, Amber Reyes, and Herman McNair, called "Shock" by his friends, stood at attention with ease. Among them, the nine cadets blinked, shuffled their feet, coughed and fidgeted.  
  
"Well," Squall began, "looks like the gang's all here." At his words the cadets forced themselves to be quiet. "As you're all well aware, this is it. The big one. Your Field Exam. Pass, and you will graduate to become full-fledged SeeDs. Fail, and you'll spend another year being kicked around by Instructors." Some of the cadets laughed. Good enough. "I've taken the liberty of delivering your briefing myself this morning, so pay attention.  
  
"Your destination is southeastern Esthar, between Tears' Point and Lunar Gate. Your mission is simple -- clear the area of the monsters that have been threatening the villages in that area. A large portion of your final grade will be determined by your speed, efficiency and thoroughness in this sweep. You do not have an established time limit, but I don't think I need to tell you that taking forever won't graduate you.  
  
"Because of the broad area of this mission, cooperation and coordination between squads will be vital. You will also be graded on how well you function as a larger unit, not just in your individual groups. Your observers will be contributing to your efforts, but the more they have to do, the lower your grades will be.  
  
"This group, you nine cadets, are looking to be the biggest, best graduating class Balamb Garden has ever had. Go out there and make SeeD and yourselves proud. That is all." Squall saluted the assembled group and strode away before any of the cadets could react. Only when he was sure they couldn't see his face did he allow himself to smile. That was more than he would have said in an entire week, not so long ago.  
  
Irvine and Raijin were gone with their team to Dollet. Behind him, the air thrummed with the roar of the dragonship's engines as it lifted from the ground, carrying the participants in the main Exam to their destiny. Overnight, there had been some odd developments with Fujin. One full day was complete, the first day of what Squall was beginning to feel was an important new cycle of events. Now that he thought about it, this same sensation had lurked in the back of his mind that day over two years ago when he had struck off for the Fire Cavern with Quistis Trepe in his wake. He had ignored it then, just like he'd ignored most of the rest of the world... But now, now he was paying attention.  
  
He turned as he passed through the entrance back into the Garden to watch the Ragnarok power away into the morning sky. Much had changed since that fateful day, but some things were still the same.  
  
Still smiling, SeeD Commander Squall Leonhart turned away from the vista and reentered his home. 


	8. Part Eight

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART EIGHT  
  
  
"Y'know," Herman "Shock" McNair complained vociferously to no one in particular, "sometimes I think the universe has it in for us."  
  
"Just because the universe doesn't revolve around you, Shock, doesn't mean somebody's out to get you." Amber Reyes delivered a carefully measured slap to the back of her blonde friend's head.  
  
Shock lurched forward in his seat with an exaggerated yelp. "Hey, watch it, would ya?"  
  
The redhead smirked and flexed her hand. "Be glad I didn't have my claws on."  
  
"Would y'all settle down?" Shock and Amber turned to look at the frown of Jake Cosby. The Galbadian axeman's face was serious as he jerked his chin at the young men and women -- boys and girls, still, really -- seated behind them. "S'posed to maintain a sense o' decorum in front of the kids."  
  
(The mission must already be getting to him a little,) thought Latitia Farrelle. (Every time he gets stressed and tries to hid it, his twang thickens.) "C'mon, you two," she admonished, "cool it."  
  
Shock threw himself against the back of his seat with an explosive sigh and stretched his hands over his head. "Anyway, what I meant was, the very day we were supposed to go to the concert, Commander Squally decides to dump a Field Exam on us."  
  
"Maybe he just can't stand the thought of us having a good time." Amber responded to Shock's incredulous stare with a shrug. "What? How would *you* feel if you had to spend all day every day dealing with Rinoa Heartilly and Quistis Trepe? Talk about insufferable."  
  
"I heard that," Shock agreed.  
  
"Hey, now," Jake told her with a sidelong glare, "that's a fellow SeeD an' a Sorceress y'all're spittin' venom at."  
  
Amber sneered. "Truth hurts."  
  
If there was one thing Latitia could say about Amber Reyes, is was that the flame-headed Trabian claw-fighter spoke her mind. Ordinarily it was an admirable trait, but there were times... (Of course it doesn't hurt that she can back up her mouth.) If her fists and feet didn't work and her claws weren't enough, if her spells failed and Ifrit deserted her, Amber still had one final deadly card up her sleeve. (Kinda hard to force a girl to shut up when she can make the environment itself kick your ass.) That ability itself might just have been why Amber thought Rinoa was such a pain, though...  
  
There wasn't much Latitia could do but speculate on the whole thing. Her case was completely circumstantial at best. Amber's "geomancy" Limit ability, she reasoned, was a kind of quasi-Sorceress power, much like Instructor Quistis Trepe's much-vaunted "blue magic" or Instructor Selphie Tilmitt's uncanny power to grab para-magic from the environment itself even if the nearest spell quantum was a hundred klicks off. Nobody had ever investigated these "super Limits" so far as Latitia knew, but the answer seemed to be lurking in plain sight, thumbing its nose at the world.  
  
Continuing down the train of logic was Amber's professed hatred for Sorceresses. Just look at what Ultimecia had done through Adel and Edea, Amber said. Even Hyne, in the myths, was a troublemaker. Why should Rinoa be any better? And it didn't help that Edea was now residing with her husband, the Headmaster, in Balamb Garden itself. Who knew what kind of mischief she could be up to?  
  
It all came down to fear, Latitia had decided. Amber was afraid of her power.  
  
There was, naturally, a counter-argument, and Latitia's mind had been kind enough to supply it along with the original. To this day no one was sure what Limits were. Xu Kazeno had once explained that they were the ultimate expressions of what she called "chi", or life essence, focused through the will; a physical manifestation of spiritual power. Some held to the theory that they were magic, just like the Sorceress wielded. Most didn't bother thinking about it. Very few people in the world demonstrated Limit skills -- SeeDs, dedicated martial artists, a few rare others who had, in moments of dire need, reached down into themselves and touched something amazing. The potential was always there. It just had to be tapped. The counter-argument said simply that since nobody knew what Limits were, Amber had nothing to worry about.  
  
It wasn't as if Amber's Limit was any more dangerous than, say, Shock's or Jake's. Shock could draw lightning from a clear blue sky, literally out of nowhere, and harness it to his short spears. Whatever weapon Jake held would burst into searing flame. Latitia herself could reach out and touch the mind of a foe, imposing her will over its actions to direct it against its fellows, or itself. What was potentially frightening about Amber's geomancy was the unnatural-seeming way, even in a world where arcane forces were known and quantified, that the planet itself responded to her control.  
  
That fear, Latitia had guessed long ago, was what probably drove Amber in almost everything she did. But in all the time they had known each other, the redhead had never even attempted to talk about it, so Latitia was left with guesswork and theories. It was... frustrating, sometimes. Perhaps someday Amber would be ready to talk about it. When she was, Latitia would be ready to listen.  
  
The dark-skinned girl toyed idly with one of her beaded ebony braids as her thoughts turned from her best friend to Jean-Paul LaFleur. Of course she'd heard about Raijin. What SeeD hadn't? The stories simply didn't do him any justice, though. He was always made out to be a bumbling buffoon, slow-witted, ham-fisted and on the wrong end of Seifer Almasy's leash. But the scant few minutes she'd had to observe the man had told Latitia that the truth was something far removed from Garden legend. (I wonder what that says about Fujin Kazeno.)  
  
It didn't hurt that Jean-Paul was so damn cute, either. What would it be like if--  
  
(What am I *thinking*?) Latitia blinked and shook her head violently, setting her beads clacking. Shock stopped mid-rant about something inconsequential and looked at her. "You okay, Tish?"  
  
Latitia really hated that nickname, but she didn't really take notice. She needed to move around some, clear her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna head up to the bridge for a minute." She unbuckled herself and walked past the questioning glances of her cadet charges, out of the passenger compartment of the Ragnarok. (Meet a nice guy with a hot bod and you go all silly. Get a grip.) She stepped onto the lift to the bridge level and straightened her uniform skirt with a sharp tug. "I really should start wearing pants," she muttered. The lift rose with a muted hum.  
  
She didn't quite know what to make of the bridge. Her training had never involved Estharian spacecraft-cum-airships and she felt a bit baffled by the array of control stations every time she set foot on this particular deck -- which wasn't terribly often. (In fact I think this is the second time I've ever seen it.) Four stations were manned at the moment. One was obviously the pilot, and another was just as obviously the navigator; they sat side by side at the very other end of the bridge, facing forward. She guessed that the other two were communications, on her left, and defense, on her right. Before Latitia could become curious enough to peek over anybody's shoulder, however, the pilot craned his head around. When he saw that it wasn't some damn fool cadet screwing around, he relaxed and smiled. "Everything okay down there?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, everything's fine. Just felt like seeing how the other half lives." She stepped up behind the pilot and navigator. "Plus I thought I'd bug you guys by asking 'Are we there yet?' a couple hundred times."  
  
"That's why we don't allow cadets on the bridge," the navigator, a tiny young woman on the pilot's left, said without ever turning her head. Latitia wasn't sure if the brunette's flat tone was hiding a joke or not.  
  
Somehow, the broad panorama sliding away far below was more impressive from the bridge. Maybe it was the aura of power and control. Perhaps it was just that, away from the uniformed reminders of her duty, she could appreciate it more. Whatever it was, the stark contrast of the jewel-like cerulean blue sky and its fine whisps of snowy cloud against the rippling browns and greens of Esthar below and the gleaming crimson of Ragnarok's hull stole her breath for a moment as Latitia took in the sight.  
  
"To answer your question," said the pilot, breaking her reverie, "no, we're not there yet."  
  
"How long?" Latitia asked on reflex.  
  
"ETA twenty-six minutes." The pilot laced his fingers together and twisted his hands around as he extended his arms, the stretch making his knuckles crack.  
  
Latitia nodded without speaking, her beaded braids clacking together quietly from the motion. That was plenty of time to prepare, both physically and mentally. The instant they hit the ground, they were "on duty", and there would be few if any opportunities to relax until the job was done. The fact that the mission ahead of them was an unambiguous sweep-and-clear helped. Their goal was clear and rigidly defined, and would not change.  
  
At least, that was what lay ahead of the cadets. Commander Leonhart had issued a separate, additional order to the SeeD observers, a simple extra task that nonetheless added a twist to the mission. They were to gather data on any new monster species they encountered, and especially investigate any instances of strange sicknesses, maladies, inflictions or whatever the locals might choose to call diseases. The order gave no explanation of why, naturally, but Garden scuttlebutt had it that Fujin Kazeno was laid up in the Infirmary with a nasty, unidentified bug.  
  
(Which would explain why Jean-Paul had been looking so down yesterday,) Latitia thought, then cursed herself. She'd come up here to stop thinking about him, and there he was again. (You don't know the first thing about him, girl, give it up already. Focus on the mission.)  
  
Latitia squeezed her bottom lip gently between her teeth as she considered the particulars. The chosen landing zone or "LZ" was in the middle of nowhere, ten kilometers from a small unnamed village with a population probably under fifty. The wide-open plains would afford the testing platoon no cover, but they would be able to see anything coming with more than enough time to react, and it would be an easy hike to the village to meet with the locals.  
  
The distant LZ was part of the test itself. If this mission had been carried out by full SeeDs only, Ragnarok would drop them just outside the village. But the cadets would be inserted out in the wilderness to test their skills right away.  
  
All they really had to do, in theory, was annihilate anything nastier than a prairie dog that got in their way -- not that there would be many of those left, between the "native" Toramas and the influx of new monsters. But no plan ever survived contact with reality, and the surprises the world threw at the platoon would make better tests than any SeeD could come up with, and if things got out of hand, well, that's what Latitia, Jake, Amber and Shock were for. In the highly unlikely event that even the four SeeDs were overwhelmed, they had an emergency beacon which would summon the Estharian Army in a hurry, compliments of none other than President Laguna Loire and his insistance on Estharian cooperation with SeeD units operating within his borders. Yes, the Army was already hard-pressed, which was why SeeD was in the area in the first place, but the temporary inconvenience was far outweighed in the President's mind by the assurance of continued amity between his country and the world's premier fighting force.  
  
Barring any unforseeable disasters, it all added up to a nice, by-the-numbers mission which would graduate Balamb Garden's -- indeed, SeeD's -- biggest class ever. And considering the messes Commander Leonhart *could* have dropped them into, the loss of a concert was, Latitia decided, a worthwhile sacrifice.  
  
"Hey, Brendan," the pilot called out to the communications officer, "can you get me an updated image of the LZ from Base?"  
  
"I'll do you one better," Brendan replied with a mischievous grin. "Gimme a minute." Latitia watched with a kind of stupified wonder as the man, a fixture of Balamb Garden's Command-and-Control, fairly attacked his panel in his sudden zeal. She had no idea what he was doing, but the results were sure to be impressive.  
  
Sure enough, about thirty seconds later Brendan whooped in triumph and transfered an image from his station to the pilot's display. "Do I want to know how you got this?" the pilot asked.  
  
"We had to use an Estharian survey satellite yesterday as part of a telecom connection to Tai Shan. The thing's practically right over our heads now, so I figured, why not? So I tapped into it like Tilmitt showed me how yesterday, and, there you go."  
  
"Amazing," the pilot said, and from his tone Latitia wasn't sure if he was complimenting Brendan's skill or bemoaning the complete lack of political and professional propriety.  
  
The space-borne eye gazed down on the dry plain and revealed... a whole lot of nothing. The LZ was totally clear. (Is that a single *tree*?) Latitia whistled through her teeth at the clarity of the image. "Hyne bless Esthar," she said, only half in humor. "Thanks a bunch, guys," she said to the bridge crew. "It's time we started getting ready."  
  
Latitia returned to the passenger compartment and didn't bother sitting when she reached her fellow SeeDs. "We've got about twenty minutes. Might as well start our pre-drop checks now."  
  
She busied herself with her own preparations as Shock and Amber prodded the cadet herd into motion. From her hardshell case Latitia withdrew her twin hook-swords, checking their polished lengths by reflex alone. About her neck she already wore the blue topaz pendant which was her link to Shiva, her Guardian Force. Turning her concentration inward, she began isolating, identifying and quantifying the swirling paramagical quanta stored within herself, counting her spells. Then she began assigning some of these spells to enhance her own natural abilities. (And to think I used to complain about the constant Junctioning drills,) a portion of her mind commented. (It was worth every headache.)  
  
Latitia opened her eyes and saw Amber flexing her fingers, wrists and elbows, the deadly clawed gauntlets on her forearms moving in terrible unison with her body. From a gold chain hung Amber's garnet GF stone, representing Ifrit. Shock hefted one of his meter-long short spears in one hand and toyed with the clear quartz of his Quetzacoatl stone with the other.  
  
Jake was checking the haft and edge of his single-headed axe, and at his neck hung a crafted piece of steel that had never been touched by human hands: the symbol of Doomtrain, a spectral locomotive terror of a Guardian Force rediscovered during the Ultimecia War that had, despite its exile from the world, been the source of many a ghost story in Jake's countryside home of Red Cliffs. For many years Jake had Junctioned to Ifrit just like Amber, but following the War he and Doomtrain had... come to an understanding, somehow, while Jake was on vacation back home. He still wouldn't talk about it, and any time the GF was mentioned, his tone was reverential. Shock, on the other hand, called Doomtrain "the Whoop-Ass Express".  
  
Latitia turned her scrutiny from her fellows to the testing platoon. One cadet in particular caught her attention. His round face and carefully-trimmed hair lent him a wholesome appearance. His bow, a translucent blue and white polymer affair that had obviously been manufactured in Esthar, almost looked like a toy next to the solid wood and metal of the other cadets' swords, staves and, in one case, wing-edge blaster. He looked completely out of his depth. Kent Brougham had, however, passed the active prerequisite for the Field Exam by putting one of his arrows into the eye of Ifrit's avatar in the Fire Cavern, defeating the GF without having to summon Shiva or launch a flurry of Blizzard spells. (These plains will be perfect for him,) Latitia thought.  
  
A quick reminder from Shock had the cadets focusing their concentration and checking their Junctions. The blonde SeeD gave Latitia an impish grin and a thumbs-up, and she returned the smile with a wink. "Think you can handle this?" she asked him slyly.  
  
"Who, me?" Shock asked, pointing at himself and putting on an air of exaggerated disbelief. "You can't be serious. I was born for this."  
  
Amber spat out a loud "Ha!" and stepped up behind Shock, leaning over his right shoulder. "I'm just gonna have to show you how it's done, right?"  
  
"You can show me how it's done any time," he replied with a leer.  
  
Latitia groaned and averted her eyes, knowing what was coming next. She caught the motion in her peripheral vision as Amber stepped back and kicked Shock square in the buttocks. "Would you two *please* cut it out?" Jake protested again, and the cadets broke into a storm of laughter. Latitia said nothing. The next few days would be rough; they might as well enjoy themselves while they could.  
  
The pilot's voice filled the passenger compartment, informing them that in two minutes they would make the LZ. Shock and Amber again took the initiative in herding the cadets, directing them out of the compartment and into the ship's main hold. Jake caught hold of Latitia's arm lightly, keeping her back as the others filed out. "Ya have any idea what our secondary mission is all about?" he asked quietly.  
  
She shook her head. "No idea. Rumor's going around about Fujin and some weird disease Dr. Kadowaki can't identify, but I don't have any proof."  
  
"Yeah, I heard that too. I don't think the Commander's much worried 'bout any of us pickin' up somethin' funny out here, but..." Jake sighed and rubbed his chin for a moment. "Guess I'm just a worrywart."  
  
Latitia punched him in the arm gently. "You're gonna put yourself in an early grave doing all that worrying. Commander Leonhart wouldn't have sent us in if he thought there was any chance we'd pick up some funky alien virus, and his info's a lot better than ours. Come on, let's go make sure Shock and Amber haven't killed themselves." Her bright smile returned and she looped her arm around Jake's, tugging him out into the main hold.  
  
They were greeted with a chorus of whoops and whistles. Jake turned as red as his pendant and snarled, "Aw, cut it out," and mock-threatened the platoon with his axe. He then turned on Shock, holding the axe out, and said, "Especially you."  
  
"I didn't say anything!" Shock protested, but his impish face had "LIAR" written all over it.  
  
Jake's "Yeah, right" was cut off by the pilot beginning the countdown to landing at ten, and the assembled platoon picked up their gear. A line of light appeared where the ramp fused with the hull as the egress began to lower, giving them a view of the rapidly-approaching tan of the dry Estharian plain. The pilot's declaration of touchdown was completely unnecessary.  
  
Shock was the first to descend the ramp, spears ready and, from the ripple of power Latitia could sense surrounding his form, Quetzacoatl at the ready to strike. He scanned the area quickly, then waved his arm, summoning the first three-cadet squad. Amber followed, then the next squad, Jake, and the remaining three cadets. Latitia made one last check of the hold to make sure nothing had been left behind, then ran down the ramp to join the others. As one the platoon and its observers hurried away from Ragnarok. Jake spoke briefly into a handheld communicator, and the dragonship lifted from the ground, roaring back into the sky and leaving them to their fates.  
  
"All right," Amber bellowed, drawing the cadets' attention to her, "our destination is a village ten klicks north-northwest of here. There's nothing between it and us but this prairie and probably a bunch of really ugly monsters, so here's what we're gonna do. Squad Alcauld will come with me on point, I'll get to you in a minute. Squads Balamb and Centra will stay together for the time being with the other observers, one klick behind us. What the six of you do back there is your business. Remember, we SeeDs are here to observe and provide cover and extra resources if things get too heavy, not babysit. Alcauld, form up on me and let's get moving. We'll contact Balamb and Centra once we hit the one-klick separation. Let's move!"  
  
The redhead gathered up her chosen squad and the four struck out for the horizon. Latitia watched them fan out after a brief discussion. Their figures grew smaller and smaller, and Latitia was amazed by just how far she could actually see out here under the open sky; she could still make out the point squad when they called back to announce their one kilometer separation. Gear in hand, the two remaining squads began the trek. 


	9. Part Nine

FINAL FANTASY VIII: BRIDGES  
by Corvus  
  
  
PART NINE  
  
  
The first thing of which she was aware was a hand holding hers. The knowledge that she wasn't alone gave her the courage to fight her way out of a vague, cloudy nothingness, up toward consciousness. At first all she knew besides that touch was the raw, primal instinct to wake, to confirm life anew, but as she rose a kind of coherent thought returned, the kind of thought she often felt when drifting between waking and sleep.  
  
(Where am I? Feels like a bed. That hand... Too small to be Raijin. Okay, so I'm not dead. I still feel horrible. Wonder if anybody got the ID number of that cadet that ran me down with the Ragnarok.)  
  
She hovered just under complete wakefulness. She was tired, and coming this far had taken more out of her than she'd really been ready to give. Giving herself a few minutes to rest, she tried to decipher what had happened to put her in this state in the first place.  
  
(The last thing I remember is Galbadia City. Came down with a nasty flu or something. Did I... Damn. Too hazy. I must have gotten really sick. Hundred gil says this is a hospital bed. But who's holding my hand?)  
  
The unanswered question, more than anything, gave her the energy to shove her consciousness the last few centimeters toward the light of day, and, much to her instantaneous regret, Kazeno Fujin's one good eye cracked open on a sunlit room. In the fraction of a second her eye remained open, she recognized Balamb Garden's Infirmary. (Well, that settles that.) ...but she'd completely failed to see who was holding her hand. (Which means...)  
  
With an embarrassingly weak groan she forced her eye to open against the unflinching assault of gleeful photons hell-bent on searing it right out of her skull. She still couldn't see who it was. (Just my luck. Right eye... left hand.) Which meant she would have to... (Okay, who's holding my head still? ...oh. Nobody. I just don't have the energy to move it. Wonderful.)  
  
The presence she couldn't make out without turning her head shifted once, then twitched upright. Kazeno Xu stared wide-eyed at the other side of the room in the daze of one startled out of sleep. Her forehead was red and creased from where it had lain on the bed, and had she the strength to laugh, Fujin would most certainly have done so at her older sister's expense. The most she could reasonably do right now, though, was blink a few times and wait for Xu to look down.  
  
After several seconds, Xu blinked out of her daze and turned to look at Fujin. Her mouth opened, then clamped firmly shut for a moment. At last she said, "I've missed you."  
  
Mentally cursing both the damage to her psyche that somehow, to this day, made it incredibly difficult for her to speak more than one or two words at a time, and the weakness that kept her from communicating through the elaborate handsign language of the temple monks, Fujin whispered a simple, "Missed," and did her level best to squeeze her sister's hand. All their lives, the Kazeno siblings had worked at being able to communicate without words, and that single word and its accompanying gesture would get her point across, she was certain... but she would give much for the ability to give voice to the sudden riot of things demanding to be said.  
  
Fujin could see ten thousand things in Xu's eyes as well, and wasn't surprised when her older sister wouldn't, or couldn't, speak. She wasn't sure how long they remained that way, looking into each other's souls, but the communion addressed a long-buried, poisonous doubt Fujin had done her best to ignore for years. She knew, beyond question, that her sister's love had never wavered.  
  
(I don't deserve you,) she thought desperately. But Xu wasn't telepathic, even where Fujin was concerned, and she didn't hear it.  
  
"I should tell the doctor you're awake," Xu whispered. "In fact, I wonder why Quistis hasn't pounced already." Xu's smile defused the odd tension that had built in Fujin's mind, but the relief was supplanted neatly by utter confusion. What did Quistis Trepe have to do with anything? Had something happened to Kadowaki? Didn't the doctor have assistants? Or was Quistis one of those assistants now? Helpless to crowbar the information out of her sister, Fujin could only watch as Xu rose and left the room. The air felt strange on her left hand.  
  
(If I don't get some answers soon,) she thought darkly, (I'm going to be very, very angry.) After a second she added, (When I have the energy.)  
  
Left alone, she had opportunity to catalog a number of other irritants. First off, she needed a shower. No two ways about that. Secondly, her mouth was as dry as the Kashkabald. And trumping it all...  
  
(I could eat a chocobo. Saddle and all.)  
  
How long had she been out? Days? Weeks? Months? (Get a grip, Fujin. Answers are coming.) She began a simple focusing meditation she had learned years ago from the temple monks, calming her mind. Her thoughts were the ripples on a pond. (The pond is still.) She repeated her mantra, willing the image to smooth into a glass-like surface. When the ripples ceased, she opened her eye once more and took an experimental breath. The faint antiseptic scent of the Infirmary subtly underlined the odor of stale sweat and a lingering, acrid hint of fear. (The pond needs to bathe.)  
  
If Dr. Kadowaki had spent all night working, she refused to show it as she breezed into the room and stepped up to Fujin's bed -- on the *right* side. Xu returned to the stool on the left side and took Fujin's hand in her own again. "Poor Quistis fell asleep and didn't notice the increase in your vital signs," the matronly physician said brightly, "and our monitors aren't programmed to set off an alarm fit to rouse the dead in event of a *positive* change. I've been haunting the lab the entire night, so Xu had to come prod me. Well," Kadowaki continued with a deep breath and a big grin, "you have certainly turned medical science on its ear, young lady. How do you feel?"  
  
(Like crap, obviously.) "Weak."  
  
"I'll make this quick, then, you need your rest." The doctor held up a blood extractor -- a needleless descendant of the hypodermic -- and wiggled it, then took Fujin's arm gently and pressed the narrow tip of the device to the inside of her elbow. "You have contracted a previously unknown illness. We've been able to ascertain that whatever it is -- we're still not sure if it's a virus, bacterium or something entirely different -- feeds on undifferentiated para-magical energy. I assume you know what that is." Kadowaki pulled the extractor away and produced another empty one.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Just a few hours ago you were closer to death than any other human being I have ever known or treated, Miss Kazeno," the doctor said with sudden gravity. "While I'm unbelievably pleased that you're awake, now, I'm also concerned as to what this means about your little unwanted guest, so I'm going to run some tests. I'll get more into detail about what we've done so far after you've gotten some rest."  
  
Fujin's head still didn't want to move, so in lieu of a nod, she said, "Thanks."  
  
Kadowaki smiled once more. "You're very welcome. Now get as much rest as you need." She breezed from the room, whistling a rambling little tune.  
  
With a titanic effort only several orders of magnitude greater than that required to force coherent speech out of her own throat, Fujin turned her head so she could look at Xu and lifted her right arm so that she could sign, "Are you all right?"  
  
"I've... been better," admitted Xu in their native tongue. "I talked to Raijin last night." At Fujin's raising of an eyebrow she continued, "I like him. I can see why you're such good friends."  
  
(That's a relief.) Considering the past she and Raijin had with SeeD, Fujin was very surprised -- and pleased -- to hear her sister say that. "Have you spoken with our family?" she mimed.  
  
Xu nodded. "I talked with Father a little last night, but the connection was bad... I should probably try to call him again, he must be frightened out of his wits. The connection broke right after I told him you were sick."  
  
Kazeno Jin-Feng was not prone to panic. It took a will of steel for a man to defy tradition and common wisdom and send his daughters -- especially his one-eyed, albino daughter -- out into the wider world, to live with the xiong-jin in the hopes that they might gain an understanding of things beyond Tai Shan. It took the courage of a dragon to even dare entertain a private opinion that the traditional isolation of the Lin Ren might not be the best way to live. Jin-Feng was a man with such a will, of such courage. Surely he'd handle this just fine. Fujin signed, "Tell him I'm okay. He'll appreciate the news."  
  
"I'll do that. Is there anything else you want me to say?"  
  
Fujin hadn't spoken to her father in quite some time -- since before the Ultimecia War, in fact. This would be a perfect time to correct that mistake. "Send him my love," she told Xu with her motions, "and say I'll come home as soon as I can."  
  
"Of course." Xu leaned over and brushed a light kiss across Fujin's cheek. "I just don't know how to tell you how happy I am that you're back."  
  
(I really don't deserve you,) the albino thought once more. "Happy," she whispered, tapping herself. (Damn it all, if only I could break this blasted block. I just don't have the energy right now.) "Happy," she reiterated.  
  
"Do you want me to tell Raijin you're awake?"  
  
The big lug would probably explode with joy. After everything he'd done, he deserved it. "Affirmative."  
  
Xu nodded and hugged her gently. Fujin drank in the contact, the first she'd had from blood family in far too long. Her vision blurred as her good eye ran with tears. (Oh, come on, you didn't wake up just to cry.) Xu released her and straightened, saying, "I'll go do that now. Get your rest so we can go see Mother and Father."  
  
"Affirmative." The tears continued to stream from Fujin's eye, but she smiled despite them. After so much fear, doubt and pain, she could hardly believe her good fortune. As she watched her sister leave the room, Fujin thought, (Most people complain that they must have done something horrible in a past life and racked up a bunch of crappy karma. I must have done something unbelievably good, because I sure as Hell don't deserve all this good fortune. I'd better watch my step so I don't make whoever's being nice to me mad.)  
  
--------------------  
  
Irvine accepted the car keys from the mousey, bottle-bespectacled rental agent and nodded his thanks, then turned away, twirling the keyring around a finger of his free hand, the hardshell case carrying his broken-down rifle swinging in the grip of the other. The cadets were, he hoped, finshed with their first assignment -- finding clothes for Raijin. The situation was like a badly-scripted video game, really, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. The big man really didn't own anything besides the trailworn clothing he'd arrived with, and doubtless that outfit had been consigned to the laundry. At least Raijin had had the good sense to leave his pugil stick behind on the boat; there'd been absolutely no way to hide it, and it wasn't like he couldn't just pick up a lead pipe or a convenient two-by-four if he needed a weapon.  
  
The black truck he'd just rented was easy to find on the small lot. With a quick glance back toward the office to make sure no one was watching, he set down his case, pulled a screwdriver out of an interior pocket of his coat and set to work switching the truck's license plate with the one from the vehicle next to it. (Just in case, mind.) Dollet TR-0124 had now become Dollet TR-0093. Yes, it was illegal, but so was the fake name he'd given the rental agent, and the moment he'd given that name he was already in over his head, so there was no sense in not taking every precaution. He doubted the agent remembered what he looked like, even now.  
  
Still whistling, he climbed into the truck, tosses his case into the back and turned the key, starting the vehicle with a rumbling growl. He waited for a break in the heavy morning traffic, pulled out of the lot and drive to the end of the block. There Irvine put the truck into a parking space and settled in to wait. On an impulse he turned on the radio that was fast becoming standard in new-model civilian vehicles, now that Sorceress Adel's electromagnetic interference was gone, and began scanning through the stations.  
  
"...no word from the Tyrell family either confirming or denying the rumor that Alyssa Tyrell, the middle daughter, has been kidnapped. Augustus Tyrell, the family's head, has refused all interviews, and Tyrell armsmen are actively patrolling the area around the estate grounds and ejecting news crews, so we've been unable to get close enough for even a hint of what might be going on inside." Irvine frowned at the radio as the reporter continued talking. No doubt the Tyrell family's private guard would be expecting them, but if newsies were snooping around, they'd doubtless pick up on the single truck being let through the gates of the estate. The situation could possibly change in the time it would take to drive there, but that would be good luck very short of a miracle.  
  
"...know that Augustus Tyrell failed to win reelection to his Parliament seat last year in a stunning upset," another voice was commenting, "and the entire family's been even more secretive than usual for them since then, which means the general public barely knows they're alive. And now this total blackout. Augustus has to know this looks suspicious," the voice stated with a chuckle, "but it could mean any of a million things, really, and that works in his favor."  
  
"Do you think this has the signs of being a publicity stunt?" a third voice querried.  
  
The second voice laughed again. "If it is, it's sure working. The Tyrells have a history of being very straight-up when they *do* talk to the press, but it's completely possible that Augustus is just stirring up a little controversy. I personally wouldn't believe it, but it's not impossible."  
  
What the hell had Squall sent them into? This was supposed to be a Field Exam, not a damn media circus. Irvine turned off the radio in disgust and looked up in time to see the three cadets leading a changed Raijin toward the truck. The big man was now wearing loose-fitting black pants, a white t-shirt stretched over his muscular chest, and a black vest, and with the nondescript kids carrying their hardshell cases he looked like nothing so much as one of the chaperones of a garage rock band of some sort. A small frown twisted his lips at the thought. He waved and caught Alan's attention, and the boy led them over to pile their bodies and cases into the truck.  
  
"'fraid we got a little bit of a problem," Irvine drawled as he pulled the truck back into the flow of traffic. "The Tyrell estate's been completely sealed off from the newsies."  
  
"We're not the media, though," Lydia said with a confused blink.  
  
"No, but they're still out there, getting run off every so often by the Tyrell guards."  
  
"Which means," Irene reasoned, "that somebody out there will see our truck be let onto the estate, right?"  
  
Irvine nodded and brought the truck to halt at a red light. "You got it. Any ideas?"  
  
Alan rubbed his chin thoughtfully and stared ahead, between Irvine and Raijin, at creeping cross-traffic. "We'll have to ditch the truck some distance from the estate, and hide it. Then sneak past any lurking newsies and either infiltrate the estate, or let ourselves be found by guards where the newsies can't see it."  
  
"We can come back for the truck later after we talk to the Tyrells and figure out what's going on," continued Lydia as she picked up on her fellow cadet's train of thought. "Maybe we can have them distract the media or something while we drive it in."  
  
Irene nodded in agreement. "We'll just have to make sure we hide the truck well enough that nobody will find it while we're busy."  
  
Irvine asked, "You sure that ain't an unnecessary risk?" The cadets were probably already on the right track, at least generally, but it was his duty as an observer to be their safety net and he felt justified in prodding their scheme to make sure they were covering all the angles. There was one idea they were missing, but he couldn't provide it to them. "Nothin' else you can do?"  
  
"Short of driving straight into the estate and sending the newsies into a feeding frenzy?" Alan rolled his eyes at the thought. "I think this is the best plan. Yeah, it's risky, but that's what we're trained for, isn't it?"  
  
(Kid's got that right, at least,) thought Irvine. The light changed to green, and as Irvine pressed the accelerator he looked over at the still-silent Raijin. "Somethin' on your mind?"  
  
"I was just thinkin', ya know," the big man replied quietly. "Why not cause a distraction, somethin' big and flashy for the media to look at, and make 'em look away while we drive right up?" Well, there it was. Yeah, Raijin had just given the cadets the answer Irvine couldn't, but in all fairness Jean-Paul LeFleur was being tested as well.  
  
(Guess we can let it slide.) The sharpshooter glanced briefly back over his shoulder and saw that his charges had their heads together, already searching for the best way to put Raijin's plan into action. Again Irvine was struck with the image of playing chaperone and he wasn't enjoying it much. A very large part of him wanted to send the cadets home where they could safely play Triple Triad and watch movies while he handled the work that would probably turn bloody before it was all over. (But dammit, I can't do that. And if I stick my nose in too far I'll cheat these kids outta their rightful graduation. I'm really startin' ta hate this.)  
  
"We've got a plan," Alan announced, breaking into Irvine's brooding. "Check this out..."  
  
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End file.
